Phoenix Rising
by psychochick1
Summary: My evil AU idea of Harry's 5th and 6th years. Things go psycho, involving training, new powers, pranks, mysteries, prophecies, Quidditch, death, romance, supernatural squabblings, etc. Rating for violence, language, and innuendo. COMPLETE!
1. The Beginning

Author's note: This is an evil little idea that started bugging me a few months ago. I've been handwriting the story, but now I've decided to see what other people who don't know me think about this. Review please.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize. All HP characters belong to JK Rowling. Go bother her to write faster.  
  
Phoenix Rising Chapter 1  
  
Harry sat in his room at 4 Privet Drive, finishing up a letter to Ron. It was a quiet evening; since Vernon was currently out, Petunia was watching TV as Dudley blew up aliens on his computer in his room. Vernon had been gone a lot recently, but Harry didn't mind, as it was one less person to yell at him.  
  
It had been a fairly quiet summer so far, and tomorrow was Harry's 15th birthday. Hopefully soon, Dumbledore would let him leave this house and stay with the Weasleys. The Dursleys tried to ignore Harry completely for the most part, so he was lonely and bored.  
  
However, since the beginning of the summer holiday he had begun waking early due to horrible nightmares, both of the Third Task and the graveyard. Suppressing screams had become second nature, and found that jogging is a good way to clear his mind.  
  
On one of his routes he discovered a new gym offering free martial arts lessons. This quickly became incorporated into his morning routine, jogging to the gym and practicing various techniques which, he discovered early on, he had a natural skill for. The next week he could start learning the various weapons, which Harry was looking forward to.  
  
Suddenly the peace of the evening was shattered by the front door slamming open and a loud shout of "BOY!" Harry froze, listening to the staggering footsteps climbing the stairs and the muted growls, then muttered "Oh shit!" Vernon had been drinking. Again.  
  
Apparently over the previous year, unbeknownst to Harry, Grunning's had run into some financial trouble resulting in cutbacks in labor. They had laid off entire sections of the company and reworked some departments. While Vernon was a fairly good employee who had been with them for years, his position, in final evaluation, was decided to be redundant. So they transferred him into a different department with a substantial pay cut and an insincere apology.  
  
Needless to say, Vernon didn't take it too well. By the time Harry had rejoined them for his summer exile from the wizarding world, Vernon was spending more and more of the dwindling money on beer at the local pubs. He tended to become rather belligerent when drunk, and lately Harry had been his favorite target. So far he'd never actually harmed the young man, mainly due to Harry's quick reflexes and running speed, but tonight running was out of the question. Vernon sounded much worse tonight than ever before.  
  
Harry jumped to his feet and quickly locked the door, then started to drag his trunk to block the entrance. If he could only weather it out for a little bit, his uncle would get tired and stumble into bed and pass out. Vernon started hammering the door, bellowing drunkenly and shouting insults, the wood shaking beneath the blows. Abruptly, before Harry could shove his trunk into place, the doorjamb splintered and the door crashed open, Vernon framed in the doorway.  
  
The boy had time for one thought. *This is gonna hurt.* With a roar of drunken rage the man leapt forward, grabbed Harry by the neck and threw him across the room. Harry slammed into the opposite wall and slid to the floor, stunned, then instinctively tried to rise and protect himself. His uncle pushed the trunk out of the way with an almighty heave and stomped over to him, then kicked him in the stomach. Harry doubled over, gasping, and Vernon slammed a fist the size of a ham to the back of his neck, depositing him on the floor with a blinding headache.  
  
Harry could barely see. His glasses had fallen off, and as he blindly reached for them Vernon cruelly stepped on both the glasses and his hand with a sickening crunch. He could feel glass impaling his hand as bones snapped, and bit his lip to keep from screaming in pain. Vernon then snatched up a handful of Harry's black hair and lifted his head, then backhanded him across the face, blood splattering from the cut lip and nose. The abuse continued for what seemed like forever. The initial attack had been so swift and brutal that Harry never had a chance to defend himself.  
  
Finally Vernon picked him up and threw him bodily towards the window. With a crash, Harry's head connected with and shattered the glass, and for a long moment he was in danger of tumbling out and falling two stories to the garden path below. Instead he slumped to the floor, surrounded by a pool of broken glass and blood, mercifully unconscious. Vernon clumsily wiped the sweat and drool from his mouth, stomped out of the room and locked the door. Lurching down the steps and into the living room, he passed out on the couch with his bloody knuckles dragging on the carpet.  
  
The crash from the window above startled Petunia, who was currently hiding in the garden outside. It had become her regular escape once her husband began spending more time and money at the pub than in her house. One night he had come home stinking drunk and angry, and turned on Petunia. God forbid he should lay a hand on his precious son. She was now terrified of her husband, and now for the first time felt pity towards her nephew, having been on the receiving end of those beatings before.  
  
Once she heard the snores form the living room, she crept back in carefully and stole up the stairs as quietly as possible to inspect the damage. Luckily, with the doorjamb broken the lock could not hold, so the door swung open at her touch. The room was a mess: the trunk had overturned, spilling robes and books everywhere; crushed shelves dangled from one nail, and broken toys lay forgotten; blood had splashed on the floor, up the walls, over the bed and desk, and dripped from the remains of the window. Beneath the window lay a bruised, broken and bleeding Harry Potter.  
  
Petunia's breath caught in her throat. It was much worse that she had thought. She ran to his side and felt at his neck for a pulse. It was a bit thready and weak, but there, and he was still breathing. Gently resettling him more comfortably on the floor, Petunia hurried downstairs for water and bandages. Her home aid kit wasn't nearly enough make a big difference, but she knew the bleeding needed to be stopped.  
  
While she was gone, a soft fluttering could be heard, and Hedwig soared in through the broken window. She screeched and hooted wildly at the sight of Harry, trying desperately in her own way to wake him up, to no avail. Finally she saw the letter to Ron, still on the desk but unfinished and now spattered in blood. Thinking fast the owl snatched it up with her talons and took flight again, heading as quick as she could to get help.  
  
Harry's aunt returned and started mopping up her nephew, wiping off the blood and bandaging what she could, pulling the glass shards out of his hand and head. Harry began to stir fretfully, but Petunia whispered soothingly while stroking his forehead, and he settled back into unconsciousness. When she had done all she could, she picked up the slight body and deposited him carefully on the bed, wary of the broken bones. Silently she debated with herself whether or not to summon the police or the paramedics.  
  
Harry needed professional care, but she couldn't carry him to the car by herself, and Dudley would not go anywhere near Harry. Even now she could hear his snore in the next bedroom. The ambulance would attract attention, and wake Vernon. Then she would be the next one lying on the floor bleeding. But maybe, the police could arrest him, and Petunia would never have to be afraid again. This internal back and forth lasted a long time, during which she sat by her nephew's side absently smoothing his hair while chewing her lower lip. Eventually she made her decision and walked downstairs for the phone.  
  
Just as Petunia started dialing, she heard a knock at the front door. Startled, she glanced at the clock over the sink. It was nearly midnight. Who on earth would come knocking at their house so late at night? Not wanting the noise to wake the slob on the couch, she decided to answer the door. But even as she walked down the hall, she heard someone outside mutter something, a flash of light, and the door burst open, revealing five black-robed figures in masks, all with wands out.  
  
Petunia screamed. 


	2. Into the Fire

Chapter 2  
  
At the Ministry of Magic in London, the Department of Mysteries had set up a special division to instantly detect Death Eater attacks and alert the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to dispatch the Aurors and necessary clean-up.  
  
While it would be extremely more efficient for the Aurors to do this themselves, due to Minister Fudge's refusal to recognize Voldemort's return they were banned from doing so. However the Department of Mysteries is almost autonomous from the Ministry at large, so with a few strings pulled by alert people, this division came into being just a week before.  
  
On this night, the quiet tension in the room suddenly erupted.  
  
"Death Eater activity detected!" "Location? Possible target?' barked the SAC. The assistant rechecked his screen again, itself a new invention, and hoped it was malfunctioning. "4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey . . ." a strangled gulp, "residence of Harry Potter."  
  
A moment of dead silence, then everyone exploded into action, barking orders, checking screens and detectors, and people Apparating everywhere. The news was not good. The initial force of 5 had been reinforced immediately by dozens of Death Eaters, who created a perimeter around the house for a 3 block radius.  
  
The protective wards had somehow collapsed, allowing them to enter the house. Luckily the anti-Apparation barrier was still up, meaning that for now the dark forces were trapped. That was the only bright point, since in the center of the circle of Death Eater lay Harry Potter. The ministry sent out a general call to arms for all departments, scrambling all the forces they could get.  
  
************************************************  
  
At the Burrow, Ron Weasley sat up in his room, still awake despite the late hour, finishing his birthday letter to Harry. His gift had only just arrived that evening, so now Ron was trying to send it with Pig so his friend would receive it that day. He had just signed the letter and addressed the envelope when he heard a screech from the window. With a flurry of feathers, Hedwig soared in, clutching a parchment in her talons and panicking, or as close as an owl can get.  
  
"Hey girl, what's wrong? Is it Harry?" Ron tried to calm the hysterical owl, but knew something was horribly wrong. Hedwig dropped the parchment in his hands, and he glanced over it quickly, noticing first the letter was unfinished, then the small drops and streaks of brownish substance that had sprayed over the letter. On closer inspection, some drops were revealed to be not brown, but red. Blood red.  
  
That was enough to make Ron panic. "Mum! Dad!" he yelled as her ran down the rickety stairs, ignorant of all the ruckus he made and dashed into the kitchen. Sure enough his parents were still up, their quiet chatter ceasing as Ron skidded to a halt. Mrs. Weasley stood and frowned. "Why Ron, what in Merlin's beard is the matter dear?"  
  
Ron panted out "Hedwig . . . letter . . . blood . . . Harry . . . danger," trying to catch his breath and gain some semblance of calm. The rest of the family, woken by his thundering down the stairs and panicked yells, had followed him into the kitchen just in time to catch the last 2 words.  
  
The stunned silence that followed was broken when Ron began relating the tale of Hedwig's dramatic arrival and then showed them the letter. The white face of his father confirmed his fears that something was horribly wrong with his best friend. He wanted, no, needed to know what. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, the fireplace crackled and a head appeared.  
  
"Sorry to bother you so late Arthur, but we have an emergency. Death Eater attack at 4 Privet Drive. Everyone possible is being called up immediately. Apparate about a quarter mile away, the single remaining ward prevents getting closer that way. Oh, and bring your sons too." With that, the head vanished with a "snap!"  
  
The whole family sat there shocked and pale-faced, then Arthur rose and motioned Bill, Charlie and Percy to follow him. He kissed Molly goodbye, muttered "We'll return later," then all 4 men disappeared with a "pop." Ron sank down in a chair, his legs unable to support him any longer as his world twisted around a few more times. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were on the brink of tears, but joined the remaining family members as they surrounded him, not speaking, just comforting and supporting even as their own worry for Harry escalated.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Voldemort was not happy. He had personally come to oversee the kidnapping of the Potter boy, yet now they were trapped, surrounded and unable to Apparate. The idiots in the advance force had tripped the magic barriers too soon, alerting the Ministry to their activities and drawing the Aurors.  
  
Right now, though, all his Death Eaters had to do was maintain their perimeter and fight defensively. The hard part would be trying to escape past the barrier in the midst of the ever-increasing Light forces, but only after he had the boy.  
  
The Dark Lord stalked toward the besieged house, preparing to claim his prize.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Harry stirred at the sound of the door crashing open downstairs, then came fully awake with Petunia's screams. Disoriented and in tremendous pain, he tried to determine what was going on, when he heard a cold voice say "Crucio!" and Petunia's shrieks increased. Harry's breath caught in his throat. Death Eaters.  
  
The adrenaline rush cleared his head enough to get him moving. Not particularly caring about possible expulsion, but concentrating on survival, he rolled painfully off the bed and crawled towards his upended trunk. He snatched up his wand with his unbroken hand and booby-trapped the stairs with a few Hurling hexes and various charms he knew, then magically sealed the door shut. He would have loved to try to take out a few of those Dark idiots right now, but knew that since he was almost too weak and in too much pain to stand at the moment, that wasn't a viable option.  
  
Never one to sit still and wait for trouble to come to him, Harry dragged himself towards the window; he needed to see what was going on. Peeking out his window, he observed the flashing lights of curses being thrown down the block. More and more black-robed figures were converging on his house. A full-scale war waged just down the block, and Harry was trapped.  
  
His scar blazed with pain, and he ducked out of sight instinctively just as Voldemort himself came into view. It was so much worse than he had thought. Apprehensively he listened as the aunt's screams were joined by another just outside his door. Dudley. Soon they would find Harry, and then . . . he shuddered to think.  
  
He wiped away blood that had begun to drip into his eyes from a deep gash on his head, then jumped as footsteps were again heard on the stairs.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and Percy all arrived in the midst of chaos. The night was pitch black, lit only by the curses and hexes flying everywhere. The Death Eaters were relentless, resisting every charge the Aurors made trying to break the line. Without waiting for orders, the Weasley men charged in, throwing curses at any Death Eater they could see.  
  
4 Privet Drive was in view, crawling with Death Eater, and Arthur saw a head of messy black hair peek out the window before ducking back again. Oh gods, Harry was still in there! More Ministry workers were arriving every minute as the word of the attack spread, and the Death Eaters began to tire. Reinforced by Aurors, Bill led a push on the line, and they broke through.  
  
The Light forces ran up the block, dodging and cursing, and made it number 9 before a reinforced line of Death Eaters stopped their advance. Still, the line began to break in more places, and the Dark forces had to withdraw, contracting the circle lest if fall apart entirely.  
  
Abruptly, everyone felt the change in the air as the last protective ward collapsed. Only a few knew what this meant: Harry had lost the final remaining protections his blood relatives provided and had now moved beyond the boundaries of the property. Regardless of what it meant, everyone reacted instantly and Apparated toward the house.  
  
The Weasleys found themselves in the street in front of the house, flanked by Mad-Eye Moody, several Aurors and Albus Dumbledore. They all had their wands trained at a group of Death Eaters directly between them and the house. The leader lifted his head, revealing a dead-white skull face with blazing red snake-like eyes.  
  
It was Voldemort.  
  
As terrible a visage as it was, the worst sight was right behind him. One Death Eater carried in his arms the unconscious and bloody body of Harry Potter.  
  
All this registered in their minds in a split second, for even as they readied their spells, the Dark Lord and all of his minions Disapparated, taking Harry with them. Mocking laughter echoed tauntingly down the now quiet street. 


	3. Nothing is as it seems

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.  
  
Author's note: I originally wrote this in a more chronological order, but felt that a little cliffhanger was in order here. The more you review, the more I write. Now on to my delusional ramblings.  
  
Oh, and *__* means thoughts  
  
Previously: . . . Harry wiped away blood that had begun to drip into his eyes from a deep gash on his head, then jumped as footsteps were again heard on the stairs.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Just when Harry was about to lose hope, a bright flash of light drew his attention out the window. A globe of shimmering light had just appeared over the trees and was shooting for Harry's window. A glance toward the blurry ground indicated that no one else seemed to see the ball, even though its light bathed the entire area for miles around. Harry dove for the floor, eliciting protest of pain from his entire body as broken bones shifted, as the light shot into the room like a runaway rocket.  
  
It bounced around a few times, ricocheting off the wall and broken shelves, then hovered steadily over Harry, waiting. He stared at it, mesmerized by the beauty, as all the outside noise drained away. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a woman's voice echoed through his head.  
  
"Touch the light." "Why?" he thought back automatically. "If you want to leave here and learn the truth, touch it. Unless you want to wait for Voldemort?" Harry's hand reached out, then paused. "What about my relatives?" The voice seemed to sigh, "Your aunt and cousin will be fine. Your uncle is already dead."  
  
Harry grimaced, then conceded. His uninjured hand passed through the light, and an extraordinary lightness spread through his entire body, and abruptly found himself looking at the room from the globe's POV. It had sucked him up into itself. The bubble floated for a second, then swooped once around the room and swept all of Harry's things into his trunk, which was then sucked up too. Surprisingly the bubble had plenty of room inside.  
  
The globe, with Harry inside, returned to floating, this time right inside the window. The voice spoke again. "You cannot leave until your 15th birthday, so we must wait until after midnight. Yet the Death Eaters must leave of their own accord, thinking their objective is fulfilled." A beam of light shot out, and an exact replica of Harry and all his things materialized on the floor. Harry blinked his eyes in complete disbelief, shrugged and glanced at the bedside clock lying on the floor. 11:53. Seven minutes to go.  
  
Suddenly with a loud crash the door blew off the hinges into the room, followed closely by 2 Death Eaters, who were highly pissed after the booby- traps on the stairs had sent them flying down them more than once. They saw the Harry-image on the floor and chanted "Stupefy!" The real Harry, invisible to their eyes, was astonished to see his doppelganger, with wounds and all, dodge and pull out its own wand, ready to fight. The Death Eaters were clearly surprised, and began to shoot off curses, especially Stunning and the Imperious. The Harry-image managed to stun and freeze both intruders, but the commotion had attracted the other Death Eaters in the house. Harry simply watched with amazement at the battle joining in front of him, his twin able to stun three more before reinforcements stunned it.  
  
One Death Eater pocketed his wand and picked up the "boy", cradling him in his arms carefully, one terminating in a silver hand. All of the robed men left, some floating their stunned companions behind them. Harry looked at the clock again. 12 midnight. With another blinding flash of light, the globe and Harry vanished.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Voldemort laughed, a high, cold and cruel laugh when he saw his Death Eaters exit the house with the Potter boy lying unconscious in Wormtail's arms. Then he scowled. "What happened to him?" he demanded, indicating the bandages and blood. "Did I not specifically state that you were to take him unharmed?" His followers shifted nervously. One spoke up bravely. "It wasn't us, Master. He was like this when we found him. I, um, I think his uncle . . . beat him." Another man muttered darkly, "Still he put up one hell of a fight."  
  
"Did he? Good." Voldemort considered the boy, then gestured for his minions to follow him to the edge of the barrier. He grabbed one and touched the Dark Mark on his arm, signaling for all the Death Eaters to clear him a path and then Apparate out.  
  
Just as the little honor guard reached the street, they all felt the change in the air. The last anti-Apparation ward had gone down. Voldemort smiled even as pops sounded around them, announcing the arrival of the Aurors. The Dark forces Apparated out, but not before Voldemore laughed at the shocked face of Albus Dumbledore pointing a wand at his face.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry woke slowly, unsure of where he was and not wanting to see what was dream and what was reality quite yet. He had dreamed of a bright light, a woman's voice, a promise, and a sensation of soaring through the clouds at top speed, without a broom. It was so nice, he didn't want it to end. He shifted a little in bed, and a soft, silky material slid against his skin. His emerald eyes flew open. What the . . . ?!  
  
Harry was lying in an enormous bed with sheets softer than silk. The hangings were of a translucent material, but were half open allowing a view outside. The entire room was huge, and the bed was a small part of it. It was surrounded by windows and a skylight in the ceiling let down early morning sunlight. The view out the windows was a breathtaking mix of green meadows, snow-capped mountains, and on the other horizon a white sand beach terminating in an endless expanse of deep blue ocean. *Definitely not on Privet Drive anymore.*  
  
His memory pouring back, Harry gingerly checked himself for the injuries he expected. Instead, all he felt was rested and energetic and strong; he couldn't remember if he had ever felt this good. He also realized his glasses were missing, yet his vision was perfectly clear. One final discovery he made was that his clothes were also missing. Yet he was feeling so damn good that this did not really bother him. Instead, he laid back and sighed contentedly. Soon he drifted off again, the morning sunlight dancing across his face.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
The satisfied feel Voldemort had upon Apparating from the battle zone quickly dispersed once they reached his new fortress. One second, Wormtail had been carrying an unconscious Harry. The next, Wormtail appeared alongside his chosen master, but no Harry. Instead, his silver hand now held a note, plainly addressed in black ink to Tom Marvolo Riddle. He looked at it, disbelief and astonishment visible on his face. By now every Death Eater had arrived and waited apprehensively in ranks.  
  
Voldemort slowly reached for the parchment, his abnormally long-fingered hands trembling with rage. Picking it up and opening it, what he saw enraged him ever the more. Soon the various Death Eaters were screaming and convulsing under the pain of the Cruciatus Curse as their master vented his hatred, anger, and pure frustration. The note drifted to the floor face-up for all to see.  
  
On the note was a very lifelike drawing of a hand, curled in a fist, with the middle finger sticking straight up. 


	4. Sadness and Hope

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed my little stunt. It comes from my list of Top Ten Ways to Piss Voldie Off. Can't you just imagine his face? The voices in my head were laughing pretty hard. Oh, and here's where you meet my original character. Don't worry, she's not a Mary Sue. I HATE MARY SUES!!!!! But she does have a bit of a coarse tongue. Don't mind her, she's PMSing.  
  
Disclaimer: the usual.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The Ministry was now hard at work cleaning up the aftermath of the battle, taking stunned and injured Death Eaters into custody, wiping the memories of the Muggles living in the area, and caring after the wounded. They were lucky: very few of their members were seriously injured, and nobody had been killed.  
  
Mad-Eye Moody, Dumbledore and the Weasleys entered the house to find an unpleasant sight. Petunia lay on the kitchen floor, unconscious from the Cruciatus. Dudley had been brought down from the upstairs landing with difficultly to lie beside her, also knocked out. On the sofa in the living room sprawled Vernon, smelling of whiskey and blood, and dead of the Avada Kedavra.  
  
Letting the mediwizards take over in that area, the men climbed the stairs, careful of where a booby-trap had destroyed part of the stair and left a small puddle of blood from the unfortunate but deserving Death Eater. They found Harry's bedroom easily, as it was the one with the smashed door. It was almost completely wrecked.  
  
The desk lay overturned and smashed, the bed frame bent and mattress slashed open. The window was broken, and rivulets of dried blood covered the remaining shards and sill, plus the walls and floor. There were burn marks everywhere, and the magical signatures of several different curses could be detected.  
  
The group of men stared in silence. This battle scene was once a child's bedroom. It was obvious that two different battles had taken place here, one magical and one physical. Blood from the Death Eaters had not yet had time to dry, so the blood had to be Harry's . . . and the blood left on his uncle's hands pointed to the most likely culprit. Dumbledore sighed. *That's what caused the protective wards to fail.* He felt sick. He had sent Harry back to the Dursleys to keep him safe, yet it seems that by putting him in the hands of one monster had delivered him into another.  
  
Percy was the first to turn away, his normal stiff and pompous attitude gone completely, and started slowly back down the stairs. The others soon followed. When they all reached the kitchen again, Petunia was awake and being examined by a mediwizard specialized in Cruciatus victims. Her eyes met Dumbledore's and flared with recognition.  
  
"You!" she gasped out, "you left him here, on our doorstep! You tried to warn us. I should've warned you. Nothing will ever be right again!" She broke down in tears, and Dumbledore gently knelt down beside her to comfort her. She surprised him by grabbing his robes in a death grip and choked out the whole story; about the alcohol, the beatings, her fear for herself and now Harry, what she had done to try and help him, the Death Eaters' arrival, and the torture. Everyone in the house listened in shocked silence, and no one could find it in their hearts to condemn her.  
  
Dumbledore raised her chin with a finger so he could meet her watery eyes. "It's no longer safe for you or your son here. I will take you both personally to Hogwarts, where you will be protected until this crisis is over." Petunia smiled shakily at him. "Thank you."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
The Weasley men Apparated back to the Burrow, after Dumbledore mentioned that he would call a meeting of the Order in two hours. Everyone needed to report back to their families. Once they popped back into the living room, Bill noticed that the rest of the family had not moved form the kitchen in the 3 hours they were gone, and were gathered quietly around a pale Ron.  
  
They all looked up expectant, hoping for good news, but their faces fell at the grim faces gazing back at them. Arthur first broke the uncomfortable silence with a gentle request for a cup of tea, which Molly accomplished despite her shaking hands. They all sat around the table, nursing mugs of tea, then Ron blurted out anxiously, "What happened?"  
  
Bill began telling what had occurred. Charlie and Percy elaborated in certain sections, and then Arthur hesitantly described their encounter with Voldemort and seeing Harry carried by a Death Eater. By now both Ginny and Molly had tears in their eyes, and Ron was trying to hide his. The twins were completely speechless.  
  
The worst part came when Charlie told of the condition of Harry's bedroom, and Petunia's confession. Now everyone fell silent, tears streaking down faces onto the wooden table despite efforts to the contrary. Ron stared into nowhere, attempting to fathom what happened. In the space of a few hours his best friends had been beaten, his house attacked and then kidnapped by a psychotic murderer. So much for a happy birthday.  
  
Percy mentioned that Dumbldore would be calling the meeting soon, and they should probably clean up a bit. Ron stumbled back up to his room, passing the eerily silent twins and a sobbing Ginny, barely able to move his legs. When he entered, he saw Hedwig and Pig on his desk, regarding him with the saddest looks he'd ever seen on an owl. Beneath them was the letter Ron had written to Harry, wishing him a happy birthday. With that, Ron couldn't take it anymore. He collapse facedown on his faded orange comforter and breathed deeply, holding back sobs that threatened to burst from him.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
When Harry woke again, he realized by the light just barely lighting the sky outside that he had slept a whole day and night, and now it was morning again. He chuckled to himself. *Guess I really did need the sleep.* He sat up and stretched, and his stomach growled loudly, bringing to his attention just how long it had been since he had eaten.  
  
Just then a woman entered with a tray of food. Harry self-consciously made sure the sheet was completely covering the essentials. She noticed this and laughed a bit, then set the tray beside him on the bed and sat down too. "Feel free to go ahead and eat while I talk. A growing boy needs his food." He inspected the tray, finding all of his favorite breakfast foods, and also surreptitiously checked this girl out.  
  
She appeared to be about medium height, maybe slightly taller that him (*I am in desperate need of a growth spurt!*), with a fairly muscular build that implied both power and grace. Her hair was a golden brown wave reaching down past her waist, while here eyes were a changeable hazel outlined with black rings on the corona that sparkled with cheerfulness. Her features were nice, not drop-dead veela gorgeous, but still easy on the eyes. She was dressed in a white tank top and denim shorts that seemed appropriate to the weather outside, as well as showing off a nice tan.  
  
"Okay, first off please save all questions for the end. The tray will refill until you're full. Now, you can call me Eva. That's one of many names I have among friends, and it's the easiest to remember. You are right now in a dimension parallel to your world, where time does not hold any meaning, so you will not age the entire time you stay here." Eva grinned at his stupefied face and continued.  
  
"I brought you here because I was charged by your ancestors to teach and train you once you reached the age of 15. I couldn't touch you before then due to some ancient rules of magic that are too boring to explain. Anyway, even though you hate being in the spotlight and singled out as the hero, tough. Fate's a bitch, and she decided to pick on you this time.  
  
To the real news. To put it bluntly, you are the single heir to all four Hogwarts founders, some of the greatest and wisest magical people of all time. Descendants of the founders tended to display certain magical traits and powers specific to their house. You will have all of them, which basically makes you one serious badass wizard with the power levels of a mage. There has never been a heir of all 4 before, so this could get interesting.  
  
From your father's side you inherited Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and from your mother Ravenclaw. Slytherin you indirectly inherited from Voldemort when he gave you that scar and accidentally transferred his powers to you. Don't worry, when he used your blood to resurrect himself, only the Slytherin blood transfused, since it was his to begin with.  
  
Oh, and did I mention Merlin? Oops." Now Harry was confused. What did Merlin have to do with anything? It was a well-known fact that Merlin died childless. Eva explained. "No, you're not directly related to him, he never had any kids. Instead a prophecy was made that a child of light with the blood of the 4 would become his chosen heir to his powers and knowledge. Lucky you, he's the batty old codger who decided to choose a king by pulling a swamp lady's sword out of a rock." She smiled wider even as Harry stared, befuddled.  
  
"Yes, it's a lot of information in a very short time, but bear with me. While you are here, I will teach you how to use and control your powers and develop new skills. We'll also work on fighting; both armed and unarmed combat styles. I was watching over the summer, you've been getting really good at martial arts. We'll expound on that, and I'll also teach you how to duel properly. It's going to be hard work, but I guarantee it'll be worth it."  
  
Eva stood up and stretched. "Okay, today'll be relaxed. Once you're finished I'll show you around, you can take a shower, find new clothes that fit, and you'll be fitted for your weapons. I'll work out your training schedule and go over it with you. Let your body finish healing, your uncle did quite a job on you. Bastard. Any questions?"  
  
Harry had somehow finished eating even though his mouth hung open in surprise. His mind buzzed with all the new information and a thousand questions. The first one out of his mouth was "Do I have any choice in this?" She considered it, then shrugged. "Not really. This is a literal do- or-die situation. If you don't train, your powers would eventually become too much and kill you outright." His eyes widened in horror, and decided very quickly that maybe this would be a good idea. "Uh, where's my trunk?" Eva giggled. "It's on the other side of your bed, with all your stuff in it. I didn't grab any clothes besides your school robes, so the closet is over there. Pick out what you want and it'll automatically size itself to you. The bathroom is over there through that door. Now I'll leave you to get cleaned up." She gathered up the tray and left.  
  
Harry made sure she was gone and the room was empty before climbing out of bed and dashing to the bathroom. He gasped. It was bigger and more opulent that the Prefects bathroom at Hogwarts. Everything was done in white marble, gold and silver, from the huge pool-sized bath to the shower with dozens of shower heads pointing in every angle, to even a steam room and sauna. Fluffy white towels hung on the wall racks.  
  
Walking around Harry spotted a separate hot tub and decided to soak away any lingering soreness. The hot water felt so good, and the jets massaged away any stress, leaving his mind free to wander and consider all the new information his brain was inundated with. 


	5. Pranks always lighten the mood

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.  
  
Authors note: This story will be updated fairly regularly, mainly due to the fact that I have already handwritten this story and am only now getting around to typing it up. The more reviews I get, the more I post. Chapters are getting longer, because 1) fewer cliffhangers right now and 2) I'm trying to get to the action. Sorry, some R/H fluff sneaked in around the real story. I hate romance. Not my fault, my muse gnawed the bars off her cage and got loose. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 4  
  
The members of the Order of the Phoenix Apparated into Hogsmeade and walked up to Hogwarts, where they gathered in a secret chamber adjacent to Dumbledore's office. Sirius, Remus, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Molly Weasley, Professor McGonagall, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, and a few more people from the Ministry all took their seats around a large white marble table etched with a carving of a phoenix in flight. They impatiently waited for the remaining two seats to be filled as they chatted quietly. Soon Dumbledore himself entered, took a seat and began without preamble.  
  
"We're here to inform all of you on the details of tonight's attack. Unfortunately, out information is not complete as Severus has not returned yet. He was part of the Death Eaters that entered the house and managed to abduct Harry Potter."  
  
At this Sirius and Remus jumped up simultaneously and bellowed "WHAT?!?!" Dumbledore glanced askance over at McGonagall. "You didn't tell them?" She shook her head, clearly indicating she thought he needed to. She sighed and turned back to the two distraught Marauders.  
  
"Tonight, about 3 hours ago a force of Death Eaters managed to collapse most of the protective barriers around Privet Drive and entered, killing Vernon Dursley and torturing Petunia and her son Dudley. They stunned Harry, while more Death Eaters held off the Ministry as the perimeter of the last ward. Voldemort himself was there supervising. We saw him Apparate out with several Death Eaters, one who was carrying Harry."  
  
Dumbledore paused, took a deep breath and continued, describing the general state of the house and what Petunia had confessed. When he had finished, the two remaining Marauders were pale. Remus had tears in his eyes, carefully hidden, while Sirius glared murderously at the wall, a deadly rage glinting in his eyes.  
  
Abruptly the door to the chamber burst open, startling everyone there. Snape stood slumped in the doorway, gasping, still dressed in his black Death Eater robes. Sirius growled ferally and jumped up, ready to rush over and throttle the life out of him, but Remus managed to secure a grip on his robes and hold him back. Dumbledore got up and helped Snape collapse in his chair, then asked, "What happened?"  
  
Snape drew in a shuddering breath and replied, "Voldemort ordered us for a surprise attack this afternoon, I had no chance to alert anybody. He'd felt the barriers weaken and decided to take advantage of that, so all but one fell when we tested it. After we entered, I was supposed to watch for our reinforcements. The others tortured the Muggles while Avery and Lucius went upstairs to fetch the boy." He paused, gulping, and said, "The others arrived and I heard several crashes and yells from upstairs. I followed Wormtail, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and two new recruits up the stairs."  
  
Snape stopped again, disbelief on his face and coloring his voice. "I couldn't believe my eyes. Potter had stunned both of them, and was dodging our curses and casting a few of his own. The child could barely stand up, he was such a mess. Someone had tried bandaging him up a bit, but at least one hand, an ankle, several ribs, and his collarbone all appeared broken, and he was covered in blood. Potter stunned Crabbe, Goyle, and a new kid before Pettigrew could stun him. The rat carried him out, where Voldemort met us to inspect his prize. We felt the last barrier fall, so we Apparated back to the fortress."  
  
Sirius barged in, "Where is it? Where's he hiding Harry? Is he okay? What does that miserable bastard have planned this time?" He growled these questions out. His face betrayed a fierce desire to storm the castle and rescue his godson, and hopefully extracting some vengeance on the son of a bitch who dared attack him.  
  
Snape only glared at his rival before snapping "The Dark Lord doesn't have him."  
  
Echoing cries of "WHAT?!" erupted from the entire Order at this pronouncement. Snape grinned mirthlessly. "When I arrived at the fortress, Pettigrew was holding empty air and this. You'll enjoy this," he added with a smirk, pulled out a wadded up parchment and tossed it to Sirius. Perplexed, everyone stared as Sirius slowly unfolded it, stared at it disbelievingly, then threw back his head and laughed heartily. Remus took it and placed it on the table so everyone was treated to the artwork of the hand flipping them off. The message was quite clear, and soon they were all stifling nervous giggles.  
  
Snape shook his greasy head. "Potter disappeared into thin air, I don't know how. The Dark Lord was infuriated. I've never seen him that mad. He started torturing everyone within reach, ranting about some prophecy, the founders and Merlin." He shuddered. "I've never spent that long under the Cruciatus before." It was only then the Dumbledore noticed the Potion Master's hands were shaking uncontrollably. He summoned a potion from his office and ordered Snape to drink it.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat, calling their attention away from the conversations and debates that had sprung up. "With this new information, it seems like the Ministry came off better on this one than we thought. We captured a dozen Death Eaters and suffered relatively light casualties. The only person killed was Vernon Dursley, Harry's uncle. And that may not be so bad, since by all accounts he had abused Petunia and Harry mercilessly. Petunia and Dudley, incidentally will be staying here at Hogwarts for their protection until we can move them to a suitable place."  
  
The meeting wrapped up shortly after, and everyone left with mixed emotions. The good news was that Voldemort did not have Harry, and had no idea where he was now. The bad new: neither did anyone else. But they all hoped that wherever he was, Harry Potter was alive and safe. ************************************************************************  
  
Harry Potter collapsed on his bed, not even bothering to change clothes, he was so exhausted and sore. Every muscle in his body ached and his mind felt drained and wrung out, then hung to dry. Still, he considered ruefully, if he hadn't started his own martial arts training earlier he would be dead by now. The extra studying for the TriWizard Tournament last year helped too.  
  
The training was even more exhaustive and demanding than Eva had made it sound. He was up early every morning for a 10 mile run, then an hour in the weight room followed by breakfast. The rest of the morning was occupied by various sessions of gymnastics, dueling, weapons training, and hand-to-hand combat lessons. Eva was an expert in all of these, and while strict and demanding, was also a very good teacher.  
  
After a late lunch, the mage training began, where Harry learned wandless magic and how to control the Elemental abilities he possessed. A bare week into training they discovered he was a magical Animagus, able to transform into any animal he wished at a thought. His favorite was a phoenix, for he adored flying.  
  
Eva and Harry swam together in the ocean before heading back to dinner and a couple hours of study in the extensive library. Harry finished his summer homework quickly and was now alternating between studying ahead for his fifth year and researching his ancestors and their powers. Just for fun he also looked up new and creative curses to use on the Slytherins, and had created several of his own. These he tested on Eva. The result was a week- long prank war, in which weird and disgusting pranks were invented and tested, and Eva demonstrated her mastery of the art of pranking by thoroughly kicking his butt in retribution. Finally a truce was called and she taught Harry how to improvise new pranks. His father would have been proud.  
  
Afterwards, Eva had insisted on giving him dance lessons every night. At first Harry was hesitant, but she was persuasive and a good teacher, so he picked up on it quickly. They tried all styles of dance, from formal ballroom to Latin to swing. He enjoyed it immensely, but it was very tiring especially after a full day of training.  
  
By his best estimate, Harry had already spent close to three full months here. Due to a weird trick of his emerging abilities, his hair now grew as fast as weeds, so he decided to let it alone. It now hung down past his shoulders, and he kept it pulled back in a ponytail, or sometimes warrior braids. He had finally hit a growth spurt and stood just over six feet tall. He'd built muscle on his frame and acquired a tan from the endless outdoor sparring. The deep purple bags that perpetually darkened his eyes from the nightmare had faded with full nights of dreamless sleep.  
  
Life was good.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
*Life sucks* Ron Weasley decided. After the attacks, Dumbledore had allowed Hermione to stay at the Burrow for safety, but she spent the time either crying or worrying over Harry, or studying incessantly. Ron desperately wanted to talk to her, but could never bring himself to approach her about it. Last year he started to realize his feelings toward her were changing, and he thought maybe it was just a crush. But the month of summer separated from her made him realize that it was much deeper than that.  
  
Ron knew that he loved Hermione, and he wanted to tell her exactly that. But now, with their best friend missing and the house constantly occupied by various Aurors and Ministry workers who came and went, it wasn't the best time. Also, Ron was slightly scared that she might still like Viktor Krum and not reciprocate his feelings. Better to wait and see.  
  
Since Harry's disappearance, Death Eater attacks had increased ten fold. Ron figured You-Know-Who was so frustrated at losing Harry that he lashed out any way he could. However, this meant increased security everywhere. Diagon Alley was patrolled by Aurors regularly and a curfew was strictly enforced there. Various rumors about new precautions at Hogwarts and Hogsmeade circulated frequently.  
  
At the Burrow Mrs. Weasley imposed her own curfew, which no one dared to break. She also carried a pocket watch version of her family clock. Hoping for some miracle, she had added Harry to it, but all the arrow did was spin around and around endlessly, without pause.  
  
It was August 31st. The next day they would board the Hogwarts Express to start their fifth year. It seemed unreal without Harry there. Who would hold Ron back when he tried to attack Malfoy for insulting his family? Who would he share Chocolate Frogs and Quidditch talk with while playing Exploding Snap? Who would he share summer stories with and plot ways to expel Malfoy and the majority of the Slytherins? Who would Ron tease for blushing when first years stared openly at them? Harry had become such an integral part of his life at Hogwarts, his other best friend. He hoped he would return safe and sound.  
  
And soon.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Albus Dumbledore stood and considered all the students gazing back at him at the Welcoming Feast. Most knew what had occurred over the summer, and the Gryffindor table in particular was near silent and somber. Even the Weasley twins were not in their usual form but then again they were good friends and teammates of Harry's.  
  
He sighed and began. "Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. I must begin with a few notices. First, the Dark Forest is forbidden to all students. No magic is allowed in the corridors, and Mr. Filch's list of banned items had increased again, see him for a complete list. Now as many of you are aware, over the summer Lord Voldemort returned."  
  
At this, nearly every student flinched and paled, and some cried out in alarm. "With his resurrection, we have already lost two fine students: Cedric Diggory, who was murdered by Voldemort, and Harry Potter, who was attacked and kidnapped by the Dark Lord before escaping from his grasp. We all hope for his safe return. To protect all of you, we have new security measures here at Hogwarts. Every student must be in their common room by 8 sharp. Anyone caught wandering the halls after curfew will be dealt with harshly. We will be playing host to a group of Aurors assigned to protect the castle, and they will be patrolling the corridors after dark. I'm sorry to say Hogsmeade weekends will be cancelled until further notice. Quidditch practices and matches will be closely supervised.  
  
"On a lighter note, I would like to welcome back a teacher into our ranks. Professor Lupin has agreed to return as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He has brought his dog Snuffles, who will be allowed to wander freely. Also, for the fourth years and above we have added a Dueling Club, taught by Professor Arabella Figg." A woman seated to the left of Lupin stood and waved. She appeared about late thirties, with long brown hair and blue eyes, and nothing like the old cat lady she had been disguised as to be Harry's neighbor and protector for years.  
  
"Now let the feast begin!" With a little wave, all the tables filled with tons of food on golden platters. As the students ate, the normal chatter was unusually subdued and most of the teachers ate in silence, lost in dark thoughts.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Eva was in her own room, monitoring the Hogwarts feast through her dimensional portal, which looked suspiciously like a Muggle flatscreen TV. She sighed at the dreary attitude exuded by the collective body, then grinned evilly when a new prank idea presented itself to her consciousness. Glancing around briefly to make sure the door was closed and locked, she touched the screen and quietly directed her spell onto all the tables.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
(A/N: possible cliffhanger, but decided to finish this section. *shrugs in defeat*  
  
Near the end of the feast, a muted rumble was felt in all the tables, and everyone froze, wide-eyed. Suddenly all the pitchers and goblets of pumpkin juice shot the liquid into the air, squirting streams in the shape of lightning bolts towards the ceiling. The orange liquid converged and formed a shape in the air.  
  
The Hogwarts crest, topped by the stars of Merlin, flowed above the tables like a possessed aquarium. The house animals in the crest were animated, moving and calling, filling the Great Hall with cacophonous sounds of a zoo gone mad. As they all stared up, dumbstruck at the image, fireworks exploded in the air, sending multicolor sparks and stars to cover every inch of the tables.  
  
Finally the crest itself exploded, silencing the noise but drenching everyone with pumpkin juice. For just a second there was utter silence, then someone chuckled, and soon most of the students started laughing and cheering, though some looked disgusted at their soaked robes. Ron laughed especially hard at the sight of Malfoy's pale blond hair stained bright orange.  
  
Dumbledore dismissed them all with a wave and a final snicker, unsuccessfully suppressed behind his moustache. The prefects lead everyone up to the house common rooms. Ron and Hermione had both been appointed as Gryffindor's prefects, and after showing the first years up to bed, they met back in the common room.  
  
For a second they simply stared at each other, and then surprisingly Hermione made her move. She launched herself into Ron's arms, hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. She muttered "'Night, Ron," and fled up the stairs to the 5th year girls dorm. Ron stood there, stunned; touched his flaming cheek where she'd kissed him, then grinned goofily and went to bed, still smiling. 


	6. Awakenings

Disclaimer: the usual. The song belongs to Gaelic Storm. Great band.  
  
Authors note: I am so sorry! This chapter is inundated with enough fluffy goodness to satisfy a marshmallow factory and pillow company sharing the same warehouse. My muse, while sometimes quite creative, has this little collection of fluffy plot bunnies that she sics on me at times. That's where this chapter came from. Yet another reason why writing at 2 am is not a good idea. Side note: This actually had two or three scenes that I wrote, but deleted from the final version. They were purely for my enjoyment, had no purpose in the story, interrupted the flow, and I doubt anybody else would get them. Not to mention they were puerile. The writing sucked "big, hard goat balls" *thanks Cricket*  
  
*_* indicates thoughts. ^_^ are Eva's thoughts.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
At lunch Eva showed Harry the recording she had made of her banquet prank. He laughed when she focused in on Malfoy, drenched in pumpkin juice and sparks and scowling so darkly he resembled Snape. Then he asked "How much longer will the training last?"  
  
For the two of them, over 14 months had already passed, and Harry desperately missed his friends and Hogwarts. It felt sometimes like a piece of him was missing. His powers and skills had increased incredibly, and his body was fit and strong, while that once unruly mop of wild black hair now reached his waist. There is a difference between growing up and growing old. While he had not aged physically, his body went through its natural development, and he seemed older not only because of the changes, but due to the wisdom and pain still reflected in his emerald eyes.  
  
Harry had also picked up a couple of tattoos and scars along the way. A phoenix in flight and a small lion adorned his back, while a small rune marking him as the Phoenix Lord graced both his right hand and left shoulder. Overall, people would be very surprised when Harry showed up again.  
  
Eva snuck a glance at him. "Tired of my company, is that it?" He looked pained and trapped for a moment, before she laughed and said "I'm joking." She considered him thoughtfully. "I was planning on at least two years here, but you're more powerful than I had ever planned on. You have a natural talent for fighting and dueling, and an uncanny skill with both Elemental and wandless magic."  
  
She smiled as he blushed a bit; still modest. "You're such a quick and natural study, I think that in less than a month we'll have exhausted what I can teach you here. Now at Hogwarts you can focus on Herbology and Potions, but I doubt you'll have much trouble with those. I figure you can return to Hogwarts in a week or so."  
  
Eva thought for a moment. "On Halloween Hogwarts will have a masquerade ball for the third years and up to make up for the cancelled Hogsmeade trips. Everyone is required to cover their face to enter, and all masks come off at midnight. They'll give a prize for best costume. That'll be your homecoming party and prank! We'll have to work up a disguise." Harry suppressed a grin, until she started giggling, then he joined in.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
The first month back at Hogwarts had gone smoothly, if a little quieter than normal. Snape still favored the Slytherins while berating the Gryffindors, McGonagall was as strict as ever, and Binns lulled everyone to sleep in History of Magic with his notes on the Warlock Conferences of 1365. Hagrid presented lessons on centaurs, and persuaded Firenze to come speak to the classes. Lupin began teaching the 5th years advanced curses and countercurses, while Arabella Figg turned out to be a very tough but experienced dueling professor. Trelawny, however, seemed a bit lost as her favorite student to predict dire events on had been missing for over two months, but she could not prove that he was dead, so had no idea if her prediction had come true.  
  
Dumbledore announce the Halloween masquerade at dinner, and also told them not to tell anyone what they were going as. The grand prize would go to the least recognizable student with the most creative costume. So naturally everyone went back to their common rooms to discuss and plan their costumes.  
  
Ron spotted Hermione sitting in a corner away from everyone else, attempting to read. He berated himself for being scared of his best friend, so he gathered his courage and walked over to sit down next to her. "Um, hello." "Hello. I didn't see you there." She attempted a faint smile, but Ron wasn't buying it. He leaned over.  
  
"Hermione, we may not have talked as much as normal over the summer, but I can tell that something's wrong. Can you tell me? I'm your friend." *And I'd like to be so much more, but only if you let me, * he thought. She stared at him, internally debating as unnoticed tears welled up. Finally she sighed.  
  
"It's Viktor," she admitted. Ron clenched his hands into fists before he calmed himself down, but Hermione did not notice. "He wrote me again. You know we've been corresponding over the summer. Anyway, he told me that he loves me. He feels it's our destiny to be together. He wants to wait for me to graduate, and then we'll get married."  
  
Ron stayed silent for a moment, battling his emotions, before asking gently, "And what do you think?" Hermione bit her lower lip. "I'm too young to consider marriage. I mean, I'm only 15, and he's 19 and planning his family and future already. He needs someone older, who's ready for that kind of commitment." She screwed up her face in an unreadable expression for a moment. "I don't want to get married right out of school, and not to Viktor. He would tie me down. I want to live my life, see what the world offers, do something important and interesting . . . " She gestured with a hand as she tried to find words for her feelings. Ron broke in softly, "You want to be yourself and be known as yourself, not somebody's wife." Her expression brightened. "That's exactly it!"  
  
Suddenly she looked away, a slight blush staining her cheeks. "Viktor wouldn't understand that, that's why I don't love him. He's a good friend, but can never be anything more to me. I sent him a letter back today, telling him that, and I'm worried about his reaction. I want to stay his friend."  
  
Ron breathed an inaudible sigh of relief before pulling her into a hug. "Don't worry. He should be understanding enough to recognize you feelings and remain friends. If not, then maybe it's for the best." They just held each other, then Hermione added "I'm so worried about Harry. He's been gone for months, not a trace. You don't think he's . . . he's . . . well . . . dead, do you?"  
  
Ron felt tears wet his shirt, and buried his face in her soft hair. Oh, her hair smelled so good, of apples and honey. "No, I think . . . no, I know, he's still alive somewhere, far out of You-Know-Who's reach. He's too tough to just roll over and die. He'll be back, you'll see. Harry would never just abandon us. We're his friends, and I know he misses us just as bad as we miss him."  
  
For long minutes neither spoke, then reluctantly Ron, his voice muffled by her hair, asked a question that had been bothering him. "Why could Viktor never be more than a friend?" Hermione stiffened in his arms, and tried to pull away. He stopped her with a pleading gaze. She gnawed her bottom lip, distracting Ron, not meeting his eyes, then muttered something inaudible. "What was that?" He leaned in closer.  
  
Hermione sighed and repeated softly, "I'm in love with someone else." With that she broke away from his embrace, flushing scarlet, and ran up the stairs to her dorm, not looking back. Her abrupt departure attracted attention from the group by the fireplace, which turned questioningly to Ron.  
  
Lavender asked, "What did you say to her?" He shook his head. "She's upset over Harry." The others nodded understandingly and absorbed themselves in the discussion again over Halloween costumes. Lavender however got up and went over to Ron, for once completely serious.  
  
In a low voice she asked, "That's not all is it? You're in love with her." Ron grimaced, not bothering to deny it. "Is it that obvious?" She smiled. "No, not really. Have you told her that?" Negative response. Lavender leaned in close and whispered, "You should. I know for a fact that she loves you. That's why she refused Viktor Krum. I'm breaking the girls' oath of silence for this, so you better take advantage of it." She straightened up, grinning at Ron's stupefied look, and rejoined the discussion group around the fire.  
  
Ron slowly climbed the stairs, digesting this new information, and when he was lying in bed, he smiled as a plan began to form in his mind.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron woke up early the next morning to put his plan into motion. Lucky for him it was Saturday, so the only thing going on was Quidditch practice later in the afternoon. Tryouts for Keeper and Seeker plus a whole reserve team had been a couple of weeks ago. Ron had made the team as Keeper, which was a first in his family. They couldn't really replace Harry, but they needed a Seeker and a third year had earned that position. He still needed work though.  
  
Ginny became a reserve Chaser along with Seamus and a second year named Rich Harrison, and a couple of 6th years were the reserve Beaters. Since the majority of the team were 7th years and graduating, they needed to start training next year's team. For the same reason, none of them had wanted to be captain. They had planned on Harry taking over Oliver's old role, but with his disappearance and Ron's lack of experience, Alicia Spinnet was voted captain.  
  
Ron went down to the Great Hall for breakfast and ate quickly, then ran for the library, earning many strange looks from Madame Pince. He had given Lavender instructions to get Hermione into the Common room at 10 sharp. On Saturdays she normally shut herself in her room until lunch, then spent the afternoon in the library until dinner. Ron decided he was going to shake up her routine, and her life, today.  
  
By 9:30 he found everything he needed from the library and rehearsed the entire scenario, but he was still so nervous. What if she said no, or laughed, or worse, cried? But then he thought to himself, *Get a grip! You're a Gryffindor and a Weasley. You love her. Just follow your heart and see where it leads.* With the mental pep talk strengthening his resolve, Ron walked quickly back to Gryffindor Tower to get ready.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Hermione sat at her desk, pretending to read her Potions textbook, but not seeing the page at all. Her thoughts were all over the place, but mainly on Viktor, Harry, and Ron. Ron. She sighed deeply. She thought that from his jealousy over her and Viktor he loved her as much as she realized she loved him. But over the summer things had changed. They barely spoke to each other, even when living in the same house. She'd waited too long; he had given up on ever having his feeling reciprocated and forgot about her.  
  
If only Harry were here. Hermione could talk to him, he'd comfort her and talk to Ron, and . . . But Harry was missing, and Ron, while still a friend, could have been so much more. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of these depressing thoughts, but her mind stubbornly focused not on the properties of witch hazel leaves in, but on Ron's bright red hair, his cute freckles, the way he held her close . . .  
  
Just then Lavender poked her head in. "Hey Hermione, I know you hate to be bothered when you're working, but we have a problem in the common room that we need a prefect to mediate." Hermione did not turn around. "Can't Ron take care of it? I'm busy." Lavender shifted uncomfortably, "Uh, we, we can't find Ron. And besides, it's kind of a girl thing." Hermione sighed, marked her page and rose from her bed, actually thankful for the distraction. She crossed the landing and started down the stairs. "Okay, what is the . . . Oh!"  
  
At the foot of the stairs stood Ron, dressed in an immaculate tuxedo and his hair slicked back attractively. At her arrival Seamus started playing a song on the wizard stereo he'd gotten over the summer, and a soft guitar began strumming. Ron began to sing, a slight flush on his cheeks.  
  
I've lived a long life and now I'm looking back It's the end of the road, the last stop on the track And I smile as I think of my true love once more. She's the light of my life, the one I adore.  
  
She . . . she was the prize! The prettiest girl with the loveliest eyes. She . . . she was the prize! Shiny brown hair and those lovely . . . lovely brown eyes.  
  
I met her one day at the Harvest Fair dance I longed for a whisper, I hoped for a glance Then she turned and she smiled and I melted away. And I know I'll be with her 'til my dying day.  
  
She . . . she was the prize! The prettiest girl with the loveliest eyes. She . . . she was the prize! Shiny brown hair and those lovely . . . lovely brown eyes.  
  
Hermione stood awestruck at the base of the stairs after Lavender dragged her down, speechless. Ron had knelt and held one of her hands as he sang to her, gazing straight into her lovely brown eyes the whole time. Once the song had finished, he took a deep breath and said, "I have known you for the last 5 years and have enjoyed our friendship ever since we took out that troll. But now I realize that my feelings for you have changed; they've moved beyond friendship." He paused, then took the plunge, "I love you Hermione Granger."  
  
She froze stock-still, her formidable brain barely able to process the information. He loved her, he actually loved her! Warmth rushed through her, making her dizzy and a bit breathless. The she realized she was just staring at Ron as he waited for her response, hope dimming in his eyes. Hermione tugged his hand, making him rise from his knees. Dejection started to settle on his features when she leaned in and said "I love you too Ron Weasley." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely.  
  
Ron couldn't believe it. His stupid plan had actually worked! She did love him! He put his hands at her waist and pulled her closer, returning the kiss. Eventually they had to break for air, which is when they became aware of their surroundings.  
  
Applause, whoops, hollers, cheers and catcalls filled the common room. Once people had heard the music they came down to see, and now most of Gryffindor House stood watching them. Ron and Hermione both blushed bright red as Ginny winked, Lavender and Parvati cheered ecstatically, and Fred and George collected money off of people for bets they had placed on the scenario.  
  
Ron leaned in close and whispered "I'll go change, then let's get out of here. Meet me back down here in 5 minutes." She nodded, grinning, gave him a quick kiss and ran upstairs to grab her cloak.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry watched this scene play out on Eva's dimensional portal and sighed. *Wish I could've been there.* ^ I know, and I'm sorry. But maybe it's for the best. Ron doesn't rely on you anymore to solve all his girl problems, and Hermione was able to sort out her feelings.^ He could see Eva's mental grin. ^Besides, in a sense you were there. You're the whole reason this friendship ever got started.^ Harry chuckled. *That's true. Now let's get back to work. Your mental chatter can be quite distracting.*  
  
Eva worked on Harry's Halloween costume while Harry was completing his last task to become a mage: building a staff. A staff is different and more versatile than a wand, and provides a stronger focus for a mage's power than a wand is capable of. They work by focusing the inborn magic in the blood and soul with no need of an incantation or gesture. Only the most powerful of magical beings can use a staff, so they are very rare and practically impossible to find in modern times. In the ancient times when magical beings and Muggles lived peaceably the magical blood was much stronger, and staffs were almost common. But over the centuries the strength diminished, until the last of the War Mages, the most powerful race of magical humans, died out. Their knowledge had been lost, their magic untamable. Until now.  
  
Harry's staff was made of a particular hardwood not found in his world, and the core was filled with a liquid mixture of dragon's blood, phoenix tears, powdered unicorn horn, and a lion's claw. A ruby capped the staff, clutched in a claw-like cavity in the wood. Various etchings and runes carved into the wood itself guaranteed the staff would only work for the builder, and could never be used for evil. The final step remaining in the construction was the binding, which would activate it.  
  
Harry Apparated with the staff to the summit of a mountain far away. He needed solitude for this part, and as he surveyed the view, he could see he was quite alone. He held the staff upright in front of him and grasped it with both hands. He began to speak.  
  
"Spirits of the North, South, East and West, of Wind and Earth, of Fire and Water, hear my voice and answer. I bind myself and my powers to you, to finish what has begun, and while I live darkness will never overcome the Light. This I, Harry James Potter, pledge to you with my life, soul, and strength."  
  
A fierce wind whipped up, blowing Harry's hair all over the place, but he ignored it and stood firm. A faint rumble, more sensed than felt, shivered through the mountain under his feet, but he stood firm. A brief shower of icy rain soaked him, but still he stood firm. Finally a bolt of lightning crackled down from the clouds to strike him. Harry felt the electricity combined with pure, raw magic shoot through him and into the staff.  
  
The liquid mixture at the core frothed and bubbled, gathering power from nature and Harry, and then the ruby glowed, bathing his face in a blood-red light that shone blindingly bright like the sun itself. A voice, not Eva's, seemed to speak in his head, unlike any he had ever heard before. ~We bind ourselves to you, Child of Light. May you never be conquered and always uphold the light.~  
  
It was done. Harry smiled broadly, exhausted. Tomorrow he would go home. 


	7. Masquerade

Disclaimer: the usual.  
  
A/N: this is the scene that started this whole crazy story in the first place. It was a combination of reading GoF in the middle of the night while listening to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack. It set my muse off on a hysterical roller coaster ride that is showing no signs of stopping. It was actually rather fun to write, despite a brief appearance of fluffy bunnies, and I hope you enjoy it. Just believe me when I say nothing is as it seems. *grins evilly*  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Halloween had finally arrived, and all of the Hogwarts students were excited for the masquerade, even those too young to attend. The older ones had spent the last month planning their costumes, combining clothes and makeup with Disguising charms and various potions. Some people went a little overboard, and ended up having to pay Madame Pomfrey a visit to rid themselves of weird transfigurations and colorings.  
  
Theoretically there were no dates for the dance, since the point was to prevent identification, but still couples told each other what their costumes were. Ron and Hermione, however, had refused to tell each other. First because Dumbledore had said not to, and Hermione was still a bit of a stickler for rules, and second so that there would be a mystery to solve when finding a dance partner.  
  
The traditional feast was held at lunch for the whole school, then everyone went off to get ready. A buffet would be served at the masquerade, and Dumbledore had managed to book the Weird Sisters again. Hagrid provided jack-o'-lanterns as big as carriages that floated along the walls overhead, giving off flickering candlelight. Live bats fluttered around the orange and black streamers flying through the air like snakes, and the Hogwarts ghosts flew around in a state of excitement. They loved Halloween, for that was the one day a year they could lock up Peeves in a special closet to prevent him from wrecking more havoc around the castle. Don't ask.  
  
The dance was due to start at 8 pm and last until midnight. Masks were held on by a simple spell that would dissolve at midnight, revealing everyone's true identities. Also, the students were not supposed to use their true names, but one that was related to their costumes. This they were to announce to a professor at the door, along with their house, so that the winner could be announced.  
  
Ron decided to go as the Phantom of the Opera. He had become so bored over the summer that he had actually read the book, which he found in Percy's room, and found the musical adaptation. He loved it. Turned out that wizarding society had a version of the story too, but for some reason the Muggle musical was so much better. Plus the costume automatically came with a mask.  
  
Ron charmed his hair deep black and slicked it back again, then enchanted his voice to sound deeper and more musical. He put on the tuxedo, a wide brimmed black hat, and a long flowing black cloak with a high collar. To cap it all off, he pulled on a pure white half mask, which covered the top portion of his face and the left cheek. Satisfied with his appearance, he joined the rest of his housemates in the common room so they could all go down together. They joined the huge and colorful crowd outside the doors to the Entrance Hall.  
  
At 8 sharp, a witch opened the doors and started taking down names. It took Ron a minute to realize that it was Professor McGonagall. She wore a cat mask, with long flowing dark brown hair, and blood red robes. Her voice had changed; it sounded younger, deeper, with a bit of a purr. It was almost disturbing to listen to the strict professor sound like a hooker in tone. Luckily her diction was as strict as ever.  
  
When he reached the doors, Ron introduced himself as Erik of Gryffindor and swept into the Great Hall. Once the last person had entered, the Weird Sisters made their entrance to tumultuous applause and began to play. Ron avoided the dancing couples, looking for Hermione. Just then a couple of twin girls waylaid him.  
  
"Care for a dance, sugar?" Ron looked them over and his mouth dropped open in pure astonishment. They were gorgeous! One had a fox mask, the other a vixen. Both were fairly tall with long, tanned, shapely legs which were clearly visible beneath the tiny black dresses covered in silver and gold sparkles. These dresses were rather tight, revealing tiny waists and very full busts. Their hair was long and golden blond with cute little ringlets curled about their masks. Eyes twinkled a brilliant blue behind the masks.  
  
Normally Ron would have jumped at the chance to be near such beautiful creatures. After all, he was a teenage guy. But something about these girls gave him the creeps, like what one feels when they know a spider is nearby but is unable to see it. He politely refused and continued his search for his girlfriend.  
  
Suddenly he saw her. It could only be her. She was dressed as an angel, completely in white with gossamer wings on the back of her robes. Even her hair was a brilliant gleaming white, almost silver, that flowed like a mountain stream down to her waist and surrounded her smooth golden mask. Her face was completely covered, but Ron knew that this vision was Hermione. How, he didn't know, but he knew.  
  
He approached her almost reverently, took her hand and kissed it, then inquired, "May I have this dance, my angel?" She giggled and nodded, "You may, my angel of music." And he led her out onto the dance floor, where they found a spot to sway in each other's arms to the music.  
  
After 4 songs, Ron felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see a phoenix standing there. Not a real phoenix, but definitely one of the most elaborate and creative disguises they had seen tonight. Long robes of crimson and gold with stitching that gave the impression of glossy feathers; boots that appeared to have golden talons; a full mask and headdress with real feathers and glinting emerald eyes; long fiery red and blonde hair commingling with the headdress and cascading down his back; and a tiny flame burning at the center of his chest. Ron blinked a few times at this sight. "Yes?" "I was wondering if I could cut in for a dance with the lovely lady." Ron glanced back at Hermione, who shrugged ambivalently, so he agreed, "Okay." He handed his girlfriend over to the Phoenix.  
  
Hermione was a bit surprised but pleased to learn that Phoenix was not only a perfect gentleman but an excellent dancer as well. She followed his lead perfectly during a fast song, and he twirled her around expertly. She was breathless by the time the song ended and switched over to a slow romantic song. Phoenix led her back over to Ron with a bow and a thank you. As the couple danced, they watched as he asked a lovely girl dressed as a peacock to dance.  
  
The evening progressed magnificently, and Phoenix danced with practically every girl in the room, even waltzing with Professor Figg once. The only girls he seemed to avoid, in fact, were the ones trying the hardest to get him. The twins Vixen and Fox kept after him for a dance, but he expertly evaded them each time the song changed. Everyone in the room kept glancing at him, impressed and a bit jealous of his dancing talent and impressive disguise. Indeed, no one knew who he was.  
  
Once Phoenix approached the stage and whispered something to the band leader, who nodded in agreement. He turned and walked over to Hermione and Ron again. "May I have this dance, m'lady?" he inquired, holding out a hand. Hermione took his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the center the dance floor. He nodded at the lead guitarist and pulled her close. The band struck up a fast Irish jig with a good beat, and Hermione frowned. "I don't know the steps." Phoenix assured her, "Don't worry, just follow my lead." With that he began to swirl her around.  
  
Hermione relaxed and let the music flow through her, and just enjoyed the dance. Neither partner noticed everyone circle around them to watch, as her wings sparkled like diamonds and his robes flashed with fire. The other students clapped with the beat, while the professors all sat in their seats and watched, very impressed. They made a beautiful dance couple, and Hermione gained confidence, improvising some steps of her own at one point, and she could swear Phoenix grinned at her.  
  
The song finished, and Hermione blushed, unseen behind her mask, as everyone whistled and cheered. At Phoenix's urging she curtseyed as he took a bow, and he spun her back to Ron for the final dance of the evening, a sultry romantic ballad. Peacock grabbed Phoenix for the dance just as Vixen and Fox approached. They looked a bit frustrated, but quickly grabbed their own partners, a dragon and a griffin.  
  
The last long note sounded from the cello and everyone applauded. Dumbledore mounted the stage and grinned cheerily at them. "Now it's time to announce the winners of the Masquerade. The professors have chosen based on creativity, detail, craftsmanship, and above all, lack of identification. It is now 5 minutes to midnight, so you will soon be able to see for yourselves just how good these disguises are."  
  
He cleared his throat as McGonagall handed him the first slip of paper. "In third place from Ravenclaw, Wendelin the Weird!" A girl climbed up on the stage, dressed in the spitting image of the famous witch who, among other things, enjoyed being burned at the stake. Much laughter was heard, and she grinned and bowed.  
  
"Second place goes to Vixen and Fox, from Gryffindor, for their matching costumes!" The two girls joined the Ravenclaw on the stage, winking and blowing kisses as the boys issued catcall and whistles.  
  
"Finally, the grand prize of the Masquerade . . . . . . . . from Gryffindor . . . . . ."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
************************************************************************  
  
(A/N: I could just leave you in a cliffhanger, but I haven't written enough yet. Besides, I bet you know who is going to win. *sighs* yes I'm predictable. For now.)  
  
"PHOENIX!"  
  
The hall erupted in cheers yet again. He stalked up to the platform with an easy grace, his cloak billowing about him like tongues of flame. He took a bow with a showman's flare and shook Dumbledore's hand.  
  
It was now just 30 seconds to midnight, and the students started a countdown like it was New Year's Eve. At zero, all masks and disguising spells fell off revealing everyone's faces. Peacock turned out to be Ginny, and Dragon was Draco. (Big surprise!) The Ravenclaw turned out to be Padma Patil, who smiled at her twin sister Parvati, an eagle. The majority of the guys had been staring at Vixen and Fox, waiting to see who these beautiful visions of womanly perfection really were.  
  
Suddenly there were yells and screams among the male population as Vixen and Fox were exposed to be Fred and George Weasley.  
  
The twins were rolling on the stage in hysterics at the look on everyone's faces. Several of the guys who had danced with them and drooled while impure thoughts ran through their empty skulls now turned a sickly green, and at least one fainted dead away. The professors looked highly amused. Lupin and Snuffles were both laughing so hard they were crying, which looks very strange on a dog. Arabella had fallen out of her chair and lay snickering on the floor. McGonagall couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face. Ron was very glad he had refused to dance with them. Hermione smirked and kissed his now bare cheek, then turned back to see who the mysterious Phoenix was.  
  
Surprisingly, Phoenix still had his mask on. When he realized that the eyes of the whole Hall were on him, he shrugged and slowly removed his mask, keeping his face covered for as long as possible. It finally came off and he shook his head, the cascading waves of hair darkening to raven black as it swung into his eyes. He brushed it back with one hand, exposing a jagged lightning-shaped scar over his right eye, and gazed around the Hall with brilliant emerald eyes sparkling with mischief, a slight smirk on his face.  
  
"HARRY?!?!?!?!?!?!?"  
  
Ron and Hermione, plus every other person in sight screamed in complete disbelief, and goggled at him with wide eyes. He simply laughed and nodded. In an instant he was tackled and mobbed as the Hall erupted in pandemonium. His friends fought their way through the mob to grab him in a crushing fierce hug, which he returned.  
  
The yelling and noise level attracted the attention of the Aurors stationed outside, who came running in with wands drawn. Finding no Death Eater and not getting a coherent response from anyone as to what was going on, they pushed to the crowd rushing the stage and struggled forward, demanding to know what was going on.  
  
As Dumbledore tried to make himself heard, the mob parted a bit, revealing Harry Potter in their midst. The Aurors stopped and stared, then one grinned and began to clap. Soon the Hall rang with applause for their returned hero.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Eva watched the spectacle in the Great Hall and sighed. Then she felt a hand squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, and she turned to find Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Salazar Slytherin, and Merlin all standing behind her. Lily and James Potter were also there, watching the portal from off to the side. Godric had his hand on her shoulder.  
  
He spoke softly. "Don't worry. You are the best trainer we have, and you've succeeded beyond our wildest expectations. He's ready. You should be happy." Eva nodded. "I am happy. He was great to work with, but still presented a challenge. I still can't believe that he learned it all in less than 16 months. He has amazing talent and a real thirst for learning. A teacher can wait a whole lifetime and never meet another student like that. I'm not worried about that."  
  
"Then what is it child?" She hesitated. "It's just that . . . I hate having to keep secrets, especially big ones. I was so straightforward and blunt with him on most of his history, but I couldn't tell him the most important part. He's been lied to for most of his life, certainly as far back as he can remember. He's going to be hurt."  
  
Rowena stepped forward gracefully. "I know, but some things in life are inevitable. Harry will survive this. But there's something else bothering you." Eva silently cursed her for being so perceptive. She sighed and turned back to the screen, wrapping her arms around her. Her thoughts were in turmoil, and eventually she whispered, still barely loud enough for them to hear,  
  
"I also never told him . . . . that I love him."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Eventually Dumbledore managed to restore a semblance of order in the Hall. "Everyone, off to bed with you now. Teachers, please escort your houses to their common rooms, and then join me back here. You three," he pointed to the Trio, still entangled in a hug, "go change and be back down here in half an hour." They nodded and followed their classmates out. After they had all left, he sighed and signaled the Order for an emergency meeting. It was going to be a long night.  
  
Harry held his friends back a bit so the vast chattering crowd was forced to pass them by, leaving them in relative peace for the moment. He spoke quickly and softly, "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you two again. I'm going to explain to Dumbledore what has happened, and I'll make sure you guys are there for the whole story. This is probably the last chance I have to speak to you privately for a while." He grimaced. "Just keep an open mind, some things I have to say are a bit . . . shocking."  
  
Ron and Hermione nodded and led the way up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She started at the sight of Harry. "So it's true! You've finally returned, young one, and oh, everyone is so happy!" Her tone changed. "Where have you been? Your friends and the professors have all been worried sick to death about you!" she scolded. Ron just rolled his eyes and said, "Godric," so she had to swing the portrait open.  
  
There was a tremendous blast of noise. It seemed the whole of Gryffindor House was waiting for them. Harry leaned over to Ron and muttered, "By the way, congratulations," indicating Hermione with a flick of his eyes, "I never knew you could sing." He winked and stepped through to instantly disappear into the cheering crowd. Ron stood there for a second, blinking, and then followed with his girlfriend.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
It was exactly 30 minutes later that the three friends disentangled themselves from the rest of the House and went back down to the Great Hall. They found all the teachers waiting for them around a single round table, thankfully in normal clothes. Ron and Hermione both wore casual clothes suitable for weekends, but Harry was something of a surprise.  
  
Harry was dressed in black pants, a white sleeveless top that showed off his lean muscled chest and arms, and black dragon hide boots. His long hair was tied back into a long braid, except for a slight fringe of bangs that still hid his scar. The teachers seemed a little stunned at the change of attire, since all they had ever seen him in was either the school robes or Dudley's oversized hand me downs.  
  
As he sat down, the doors opened again, and the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix trooped in, a bit disgruntled at the lateness of the hour. They stopped and stared when they caught sight of, and recognized Harry. Mrs. Weasley screamed his name and enfolded him in a strangling hug. Bill pulled her off when Harry began to turn blue from oxygen deprivation. She sat down next to her husband, smiling warmly through her deep blush.  
  
Dumbledore began the meeting. "I know it's late, but I believe you will excuse me as you all know the reason why we are here. Now, Harry, would you care to explain what has transpired since July 31st?" Harry glanced around, muttered a quick incantation and a faint red sheen appeared around the whole gathering. He settled back in his chair as everyone stared at what he'd done. Casually he explained, "It's only a modified Shield charm with a Silencing spell. I don't want to be overheard. The walls here have ears."  
  
Indeed the portraits in the Hall now looked quite indignant at being shut out of the conversation.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, and began to relate the events leading up to his disappearance, an absolute silence descending over the group as he spoke of the abuse and the arrival of the Death Eaters. When he told them about the light and the globe and the image fighting the Death Eaters, though, Dumbledore interrupted with a frown.  
  
"Wait. Magical image projections cannot do magic themselves, and they are not physically material. They are more like ghosts than anything. We saw you, well it, being carried by Wormtail." Snape interjected, "It even left bloodstains on his robes." Harry nodded; Eva had explained it to him.  
  
"It wasn't a regular projection. It was more like an extension of myself, a clone if you will, same powers and abilities but no soul and therefore no autonomy. In a sense it was me, because I was the one unconsciously controlling it. Once Voldemort Apparated, the clone was recalled, leaving them empty-handed."  
  
"Not quite," Sirius interjected. His story had been explained to the teachers, so he was allowed to transform back to his human form for this meeting. At Harry's inquiring look, he produced the parchment Snape had brought from the fortress and handed it over. "Wormtail was recruited to be messenger boy for Voldemort's telegram." Curious, Harry opened it up, took one look at the rude sign and started laughing so hard tears sprang to his eyes. Sirius grinned. *Exactly my reaction.* "We should get this framed!" his godson choked out, as his friends giggled too.  
  
Snape glared at him, but there was a twinkle in his black eyes. "So this wasn't your doing?" Harry shook his head in denial, trying to suppress his laughter, and finally managed "No, I had no idea. Eva never told me she left him a love note." Dumbledore jumped in with another question. "Who's Eva?"  
  
Harry explained, "She's the one who rescued me from the house, and has been training me since then. She also explained a few things about my ancestry and answered a few questions you kept avoiding." Here he glared at the headmaster briefly, who opened his mouth presumably to defend himself before Harry waved it off. "I know, you couldn't tell me until I turned 15. I still had to give you a hard time about it."  
  
Seeing the puzzled looks directed at him, he revealed his heritage of the founders and therefore Merlin, then described in brief his training and new powers. Very brief: in fact he neglected to mention several things, like being a magical Animagus. His description led in turn to questions about the parallel dimension, its time flow in relation to this world, and Eva. Sirius finally asked, "So, what's she like? Is she cute?"  
  
Harry gave him a sidelong glare and chuckled. "Oh, she's good-looking all right. She can also kick your arse physically, mentally, and in a prank war." Sirius'eyes widened in interest. "Really? What else?" Harry furrowed his brow, trying to find a good description for the complex person he still had trouble figuring out.  
  
"Eva has the bravery of Gryffindor, the loyalty and steadfastness of Hufflepuff, the wits and cleverness of Ravenclaw, the cunning of Slytherin; more mischievousness and prank ideas than the Weasley twins and the Marauders combined, more sheer ego than the cockiest American brat, and backed by the strength of a lioness and utter fearlessness." He smirked at the expressions on their faces and continued. "Mix over high heat, add estrogen, multiple personalities, a touch of insanity, and a master's knowledge of literally hundreds of fighting styles, weapons and spells. Toss in an obsession for Irish drinking songs and explosives, let simmer, then pour into a feminine body perfect for dancing or kicking your arse without breaking a sweat."  
  
Ron gaped at him in astonishment. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster. You can't possibly be serious." Harry shook his head. "I'm not. She's ten times worse than that." He grinned. "You really have to meet her to appreciate her. She's . . . unique. Takes a little getting used to. Incidentally, she was responsible for the exploding pumpkin juice at the Welcoming Feast."  
  
For a few minutes there was silence as everyone mulled over all they had just learned, then Ron asked Harry about his tattoo. "Which one?" He smiled at Hermione's shocked look when she spluttered out, "You have more than one?" "Yep." Harry slipped off his shirt to reveal the ones on his back, which he then proceeded to detail the origin and significance of. Dumbledore inquired about the matching runes on his shoulder and hand. "They seem familiar, but I can't place them." Harry grinned. "Knew you'd ask about those. These are the emblems of the Phoenix Lord."  
  
The Order members gasped and stared at Harry with even more scrutiny than before, as if seeing him in a whole new light. The teachers and teenagers however simply looked perplexed. Dumbledore covered his slight shock and explained, "The Order of the Phoenix was originally created by the war mages as a group of the most talented Light warriors to defend against the rise of the dark arts. They are chosen by a phoenix and led by the most powerful war mage, called the Phoenix Lord. However, there hasn't been a Phoenix Lord in more than a millennium, since the war mages all died out. Now the phoenix chooses the leader, not necessarily the most powerful but the one most suited to the task."  
  
Now everybody was staring at Harry open-mouthed, who was feeling discomforted under the intense scrutiny. He sighed, held out one hand to the side and his staff appeared in his grasp. As eyes nearly popped out of respective heads, he told them, "I am trained as a war mage, a grand master of the highest level with Elemental abilities. When I mastered the training I took on the responsibilities of and was marked as the Phoenix Lord. This endowed me with a few extra gifts."  
  
At this point Ron burst out, "Good gods Harry! With all these extra powers and 'gifts,' you might as well declare yourself a deity! Then you can have all the people kissing your feet all the time! Bet that's what you wanted the whole time, huh? More bloody attention! Oh no, it's not enough to be the Boy Who Lived, now you gotta be the Phoenix Lord, All-Powerful War Mage, and the bloody Boy Who Kicked You-Know-Who's Arse!" By now he was really worked up, almost foaming at the mouth, five years of jealousy breaking through the dam. "You disappear for months without a trace, then come waltzing back into our lives expecting us to welcome you with open arms. You're even more arrogant and selfish than that git Malfoy. Maybe you plan to get rid of You-Know-Who just so you can take his place and conquer the world!"  
  
Several looked shocked at this outburst of hate-filled ranting, and Molly Weasley opened her mouth to give her son a vicious diatribe more scathing than the one he just gave his best friend. A low growl from Harry stopped her before a single word was uttered. He slowly stood, his jade green eyes flashing with an angry fire while he visible tried to calm himself before he blew the red head through the far wall. His voice was a soft hiss.  
  
"You little insufferable prick. Why don't you use that brain that's supposedly hidden behind that huge gaping hole of a mouth? You think I actually wanted all of this? All the fame, all the attention. Let me tell you what it has gotten me. Because of my heritage, which I have absolutely no control over, a megalomaniac serial killer murdered my parents and tried to kill me. Because he failed I ended up having to live with the biggest set of goddamn Muggles you could find anywhere, who hated me and used me as their personal house-elf and punching bag. I finally escape them to find out I'm famous for something I can't even remember and it wasn't me, it was my mum! People stare at me all the time and expect me to be able to correct all the world's wrongs. How would you like it to have all the expectations of everyone on your shoulders at age 11?  
  
But because I'm different they blame me for everything too. Second year everyone swore I was the heir of Slytherin and was setting the basilisk loose simply because I can speak Parseltongue. It's not my fault I can speak it. Everyone is so worried about my safety and my sanity, it's impossible to live a normal life. I can't go anywhere without being watched by someone! Do you have any idea how frustrating that is?  
  
You're jealous of me because of my abilities. Well, let's take a look at what you have and compare. You have a family who loves you and cares about you and what happens to you. You have a girlfriend who loves you for who you are, not what you are. You can walk around and be yourself, not having to put on a mask wizarding society has prescribed. You don't have nightmare every night of where Voldemort kills everyone you care about in front of your eyes, in horrible detail. Or the visions, which are worse because you know that you have a front row seat to horrific massacres and you can't do a damn thing about it!  
  
With great power comes great responsibility. What they never mention is the sacrifices in the soul. I had to leave all of you behind so I could learn to control these powers before they killed me. I have very few friends because they could become target for my enemies. I cannot ever fall in love, I'll never have a family. I'm doomed to wander the earth alone, and wander is right, for I can never be at peace in one place. You're still young and innocent. I'm only 15 physically and I have blood on my hands. I may seem omnipotent to you, but I'm still mortal. One day I will fail, and that failure will come at a great price. My death will be the least of it.  
  
Why don't you stop brooding on your petty jealousies and learn to appreciate what you have. I would give up all my supposed 'superpowers' to have what you were born with and receive freely every day. Love. Love is what saved me from Voldemort the first time, not any special abilities. That's the one thing I seemed destined to live without. So just piss off, you lucky bastard."  
  
Harry's voice had never raised during his whole tirade, which made it seem even more intimidating than if he had shouted and yelled. Everyone stared, silent with their jaws touching their knees as Harry stormed out, hair streaming behind him like a comet's tail.  
  
Snape was the first to recover, and he took the opportunity to glare poisoned daggers in Ron's direction. "You are very fortunate, you bloody idiot. He could have blasted you through the wall without a thought. Clearly someone taught him to control his emotions and it sure as hell wasn't you."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
************************************************************************  
  
A/N: okay, I had to respond to a couple of reviews. You don't have to read this, but please review the rest of the chapter.  
  
Harry will not have a girlfriend in this fic. You have already seen the majority of the romance. I don't like it, and I don't like writing it either. I hope this little speech has made that clear. While I occasionally enjoy a couple of good pairings, I am into bachelor Harry. *shrugs* I am not JK Rowling. I have been to Scotland, it's a lovely country, but I am currently a college student with a laptop in America. But thanks anyways. Your praise means a lot. *grins* Slytherin Angel: as you can see Harry is not going to get a hair cut. I think he's had enough of those from the Dursleys to last a lifetime. Even though I also prefer short hair. You will find that I put everything in my story for a reason, whether as a plot point or a symbol. Sorry, I'm an English freak and all my writing has symbolism in it. It will be explained later. Cricket: You continually remind me of one of my dear friends. I love your reviews. You hunt me down? Yeah right. *snickers strangely with and evil gleam in her eye* That would be even worse for your health than my cliffies. For your information I do like Newsies, I have just never read any fanfic. Might have to try it. You might have noticed that each of my chapters are getting longer. I just had a couple of really good cliffies in the first couple that I just had to leave. This one is 11 pages typed, but 10 pages handwritten. At times I'll stop because my hands get tired, but other than that you can usually expect updates probably every 2 days. Don't kill me if it's longer though. 


	8. Battle plans, reconciliation, and classe

A/N: no witty remarks or side notes today. Just enjoy!  
  
*-* are Harry's thoughts, ~-~ is Ron, and ^-^ is Eva.  
  
Chapter 8  
  
The meeting broke up not long after that. Everyone glared at Ron as if he had just sworn undying allegiance to Voldemort himself right in front of them. Ron for his part would not look up from the very entertaining cracks in the floor, his ears so red they resembled the flames off Harry's costume earlier. His mother looked angry enough to curse him into next week, but fortunately Hermione hustled her boyfriend out of the Great Hall very quickly.  
  
She dragged him through several corridors before shoving him into an empty classroom and locking them in. She put a Silencing charm on the room before turning to Ron. While normally this might have been the perfect opportunity for some snogging, Hermione had such a furious gleam in her eyes Ron would be lucky to get out of there in one piece.  
  
"What in the name of all that's holy possessed you to say that?!" she yelled. "We finally get him back after months of waiting, and all you can do is think of your petty jealousies. We've known him for five years, you better than anyone knows that he despises all the attention he gets!"  
  
Ron finally looked her in the face. "Hermione, I'm sorry! It's just . . . he's changed so much." He ran an exasperated hand through his again flaming red hair. "He seemed like he was enjoying all the attention at the ball, showing off with you and the other girls. He never would have pulled a stunt like that in the past." He scowled darkly. "Everything always happens to him, and I get pushed back into the shadows. I have to live with that at home, my brothers do everything before me. I'm just the Weasley sidekick to the famous Harry bloody Potter! I'm so sick of it!" He kicked a chair furiously.  
  
"Were you even listening in there?! Honestly!" Hermione grabbed his arms and made him sit down on the desk. "Do you realize the price Harry's had to pay for that fame? Remember last year? Do you honestly want that for yourself?" Ron looked like he was about to shoot off a scathing remark, but then caught himself and actually thought about the question.  
  
Finally his shoulders slumped and he dejectedly shook his head. "No," he admitted with a heavy sigh. He gazed at his girlfriend with a pained look in his eyes. "I've just royally buggered up our whole friendship, haven't I?" Hermione sighed, her anger fading slightly. "I would say so. We don't know how much he's changed. Remember to him he's been away much longer than we realize."  
  
She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, and said quietly, "You should go and apologize to him tomorrow. Give yourselves time to cool down, then try and fix things." Ron laced his fingers with hers, nodding. Then he cracked a small smile. "How did I end up with such an understanding girlfriend like you?" Hermione smiled back. "I don't know. You certainly don't deserve me." He looked insulted for a moment before she dropped a quick kiss on his lips. "C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm tired."  
  
Just as they exited the classroom, they heard an evil cackling echoing down the corridor. Peeves. The closet he was locked in vanished at midnight, so now he was free to wander the castle again and continue his personal war with Filch. The two Gryffindors grimaced at each other and ran to the Gryffindor Tower.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry sat on the very top of the Astronomy Tower, watching the stars and fuming. Slowly he calmed himself down once he realized his anger toward Ron, while deserving, was unimportant and misdirected. There were much more important things to consider than envious hotheaded friends. He sighed deeply, and opened up his mental connection with his trainer. *Eva, are you there?*  
  
^Where else would I be?^ she chuckled, then grew serious. ^I saw what happened. Are you all right?^ Harry pondered this for a moment. *It just hurts to think that we've known each other for so long, yet he still can misjudge me so badly. Sometimes . . . I wish I'd never left.* Eva sighed. ^I know Harry, and if I had my way you never would have. We could've found an alternative way, or . . . but it's not my call, and you have to play with the cards Fate dealt you.^  
  
Harry suddenly grinned. *Yeah, but since Fate's a bitch and decided to pick on me this time, I think she's stacked the cards in this particular game.* For a moment there was silence, then Eva started giggling hysterically. ^You actually remembered that?!^ He shrugged. *Seems to have made an impression on me.*  
  
After a few more seconds of mental snickers Eva calmed down. ^Well, to business. Why'd you call?^ *Just figured I'd check in, plus I need to run some ideas past you.* ^Okay, shoot.^ *We know that Voldemort is obsessed with me. He knows that with my full powers I can now defeat him permanently. No more of this shadow and vapor crap. But he can still overpower us with numbers. His Death Eater ranks have swelled again, and I've learned that he has new supporters in mainland Europe. In a straight battle we'd have no chance to even get at him before we're overrun.*  
  
He paused, gathering his thoughts in a coherent order. *My strengths in battle are more suited to one-on-one and guerrilla warfare. Ron is the strategist, not me. I think that the first step to take would be to cut down his numbers. Track his patrols and the Death Eater raids, hunt them down in small groups. I need to find a safe place to hold them though; I don't trust the Ministry or Azkaban, and Hogwarts can't.*  
  
Eva interrupted. ^Not a problem. I can hold them here. There's a 'nice' prison facility that's empty and fully autonomous. Nobody can escape, believe me, I helped design and test the damn thing.^ *Why is there a prison there?* ^This place is a sort of staging area for the powers-that- be, that happens to make a great training area. It's completely deserted except for me, so even if prisoners could escape, where would they go? Now, you remember how to create a dimensional Portkey?^ *Yes, but . . .* ^Let me finish. Use the same concept, but direct the energy into the fabric of the dimensional barrier instead of an object. That will open a gate, so you can send them en masse.^  
  
*Perfect. This step will take a while though, and I need to be here. I can't just show up and leave again. I need to work so I can eventually graduate from Hogwarts . . . wait a minute! I can use a Detection Parchment map to track the Death Eaters, and create an alarm that alerts me to an attack. They have a system like that at the Ministry. But I can find Unplottables too, and modify it to suit my own purposes. I can start doing my own raids.* Harry's excitement grew as his mind plotted a course of action, then stopped as a nasty thought occurred to him.  
  
*There's still a problem of classes though. I can't just leave or people will start suspecting something. What if I pull a Hermione and use a Time Turner?* Eva disagreed. ^You'd kill yourself from sheer exhaustion. Plus you don't know how long you'd really be gone, and people would start to notice. And what if it broke, or you dropped it and a Death Eater picked it up? You want your actions to remain secret for as long as possible. They can track Time Turner activities. No, a better way would be to use a modified projection. You remember your clone at the Dursleys.^  
  
*That doesn't solve anything. I need to know what happens in class.* ^Well, all you'd need to do is add in a learning retainment spell, so the clone goes to class, learns and does the work while you're gone, and when you return it joins back with you to deposit everything it has learned.^ *You never taught me how to create the clone though,* he reminded her, and he could sense her sheepish blush. ^Oops. Guess we'll have to rectify the situation. But I don't want you to use this so you can cut class and go flying for the afternoon, or skip Potions to nick food from the kitchens.^ Eva grinned as Harry chuckled, and they spent the rest of the night perfecting their plans.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron woke up very late the next day, after getting to bed only an hour before sunrise. Luckily it was Sunday, no classes today, so he didn't miss anything besides breakfast. He glanced over at Harry's bed as he had done every day at Hogwarts since first year. It looked like it hadn't been slept in, same as since school started, and for a second Ron was certain last night had all been a very elaborate dream. Then he noticed the trunk sitting at the foot of the bed, Hedwig's cage tucked on top of the wardrobe, and various knickknacks on the bedside table. Harry'd obviously been there, and Ron wondered when he'd left again. Still, after last night's spectacular blow up, he was grateful for the absence. Who knows what he'd have said first thing in the morning.  
  
Ron climbed out of bed, stretched and headed for the bathroom to wash up. Dressed in jeans and a handmade Weasley sweater ten minutes later, he descended into the common room, only to find a large majority of the Gryffindor girl population huddled in groups and giggling madly, whispering excitedly to each other. He even spotted Hermione with a group of 5th and 6th years, listening to an animated description by Lavender with a huge grin on her face. Curiosity overriding his common sense as usual (which was screaming at him that it was girl stuff, he didn't want to know, and he'd make a prat out of himself), he walked over and placed his hands on Hermione's shoulders before planting a kiss on her cheek.  
  
"Morning beautiful." Hermione jumped a bit, then relaxed. "Oh Ron, you startled me!" "So what are you girls giggling about over here?" She blushed a bit as a quick chorus of "Nothing!" answered him.  
  
Ron looked around at all the grinning, slightly guilty faces. "'Nothing' doesn't make Hermione blush like that. C'mon, tell me, I want to know." All the girls started snickering and whispering to their neighbors behind their hands, all the while regarding the only male in the room. After it became clear that they were not going to answer him, he sighed. "All right, fine. Have you seen Harry this morning?"  
  
Now the giggling increased exponentially as wide grins spread across most of the painted lips in the room. "You could say that," Parvati answered cryptically before laughing outright with Lavender. Before Ron could inquire about their decidedly odd behavior, an excited third year girl burst through the portrait hole, yelling "He's back! You gotta see this!"  
  
Suddenly there was a literal stampede for the window, the girls jostling and pushing to get a better view, and Ron had to dive over the couch to avoid being trampled. After a few seconds, there was a shrill scream of delight at the window, followed by several more excited yells then the entire group turned and ran as a whole for the portrait hole. In less than a minute the common room was completely silent and empty, save for a befuddled Ron peeking his head out from under the table where he'd taken shelter.  
  
~What in Merlin's beard caused them to react like that? Now I know what the wilderbeast migrations of the Serengeti are like.~ He went cautiously over to the window and peered down uncertainly onto the carefully maintained grounds. His question was immediately answered.  
  
Harry Potter stood down by the lake, stretching and loosening up, clad in a loose cloak and his hair down. As Ron watched, he finished his warm up and shucked off the cloak, revealing a great physique wearing only swimming trunks, and dove into the dark water.  
  
Ron's first thought was ~He's crazy! That water's got to be freezing!~ immediately followed by ~That arrogant prat! He's showing off~ accompanied by a mixture of blinding rage and jealousy. It was quite obvious now that the females had been discussing Harry and ogling him very blatantly. Even Hermione, who was supposed to be in love with Ron!  
  
He stormed out of the common room, his blood boiling, and stalked to the entrance hall, where another scene there incensed him more. A great crowd of girls from all four houses gathered at the open doors and spilled out on to the steps, all snickering while gazing enraptured at the swimming figure. Ron was sure Filch would have an aneurism when he saw the puddles of drool he'd have to mop up. He growled and shoved his way forward through the crowd, eliciting a number of protests from the hormonally influenced, and made his way down to the lakeside.  
  
Ron halted by the tree, kicking the discarded cloak aside in disgust to flop down and wait for Harry to emerge. He watched as his friend swam several laps across the wide lake, pulling himself with powerful strokes through the water as sunlight glittered around him. After half an hour of this, Harry paused in the middle of the lake, drew a deep breath and dove.  
  
Ron scanned the surface with narrowed eyes, waiting for his head to emerge again. Several minutes passed, but no Harry. He began to feel concerned as the lake remained placid, and far behind him he heard the crowd of girls muttering worriedly.  
  
Just when Ron was really starting to worry, Harry suddenly shot to the surface, gasping in deep lungfuls of air but smiling, only a few yards from the shore where Ron sat. He splashed his way to shore and collapsed in the bright sunlight, which was unusual for this time of the year, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. Ron's anger returned full force and he stood over him with his arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"Harry." Harry looked up and responded neutrally, "Ron." "What are you doing?" "Drying off, what does it look like?" Ron snapped, "It looks like you're giving the girls a bloody good show! Or did you not notice the entire female population of Hogwarts watching you?"  
  
A trace of confusion and slight panic crossed Harry's face. "You've got to be joking." He rolled over and only then noticed the huge crowd ogling him. Muttering some choice curses under his breath, he scrambled behind the tree and snatched up his cloak, hiding from the bright lust-filled eyes. Ron followed him, a bit perplexed and his anger dimming. ~Maybe I was wrong. Again.~  
  
"So, what were you doing?" Ron decided to experiment with being civil. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was finishing up my daily workout. I was going to do it earlier, but Dumbledore called me up to his office, so I had to take a break." Ron nodded and casually, but with a dark shadow in his eyes, asked, "Do you really need to work out here? I thought you were all-powerful." This last part had a distinct sarcastic ring to it, and now Harry scowled.  
  
"I see you weren't listening at all. I'm still human, you moron. Exercise is the only way I keep my edge physically. That can't be maintained by magic. I wouldn't even if I could." He turned away, ignoring the redhead seated across from him and concentrated on some cool down stretches. Ron grimaced. This was going all wrong.  
  
He tried again. "What did you do this morning?" Harry glanced askance back at him, then answered curtly, "I was up at dawn for a run, then practiced gymnastics, kickboxing, various other martial arts, did some basic sword drills, a little dueling with practice dummies, and was in the middle of my weapons kata when Dumbledore called me in. Why?" Ron gulped at the thought of antagonizing Harry when he played with sharp pointy objects, and then decided to break the news.  
  
"I'm pretty sure the girls have been watching the entire time." Harry's eyes widened in shock as Ron continued. "I came down to the common room only to witness a stampede when the scout said you were back." At this Harry turned a bright scarlet and buried his face in his hands, groaning, "Oh great. That's just what I need." He glanced up at the other teen. "I suppose you came down here to chew me out for tempting your girlfriend."  
  
Now Ron chuckled. "I was at first, but now you have to worry about all the boyfriends and brothers in Hogwarts after your blood for the same thing." He paused for a few moments, and then blurted out, "I'm sorry. For being such a prat last night. And this morning. You were right; I didn't have a good reason to be that jealous of you. Everything just came to a head. You think I would've learned my lesson last year." He would have continued but Harry waved it off.  
  
"It's okay Ron. It was a hard night. And I'm sorry that you rarely get the recognition that you deserve. I would gladly switch places with you any day. Or maybe not. Sometimes I don't think I'd wish my life on anybody I liked. Just realize that sometimes the shadows are better than the spotlight." The two friends sat in silence for several minutes, an unspoken communication passing between them that they'd not mention this again.  
  
Harry finally spoke up. "It's almost lunchtime. I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Has the tide of raging hormones receded yet?" Ron snickered and glanced around the tree. "Yep, looks like they got hungry and left." "Good. I'm going up to change. Save me a seat?" "Sure." They walked up to the front entrance together, and then Harry climbed the marble stairs to Gryffindor Tower while Ron headed for the Great Hall.  
  
The moment he entered every girl there gave him the evil eye, presumable for interrupting their viewing pleasure. He ignored it as best he could and made his way to his usual seat next to Hermione as the Gryffindor table. She smiled a bit guiltily at him and pecked him on the cheek, before asking "What did you say to him?"  
  
"I merely warned him of the multitude of hormonally unbalanced girls eyeing him like a piece of meat in front of a lion." Ron chucked as both Hermione and Ginny blushed. "Man, he may be powerful but sometimes he's completely oblivious. He had no idea he was being watched. I, uh . . . I also apologized to him. For last night." He cleared his throat and quickly said, "He went up to change before lunch."  
  
At that exact moment a hush fell over the chattering crowd and Ron turned to see what had happened. In the doorway stood Harry Potter, dressed in all black: pants, boots, and a long sleeve turtleneck with a leather vest over it. His hair was still damp and slicked back into a ponytail, revealing an earring in one ear. His eyes were even more visible without the glasses and sparkled brilliantly, even as they noticed the open-mouthed stares he was receiving, causing him to blush a furious crimson for the second time that morning. He lowered his head a bit in embarrassment and hurried to the table where Ron sat.  
  
He plunked down next to the redhead and slouched a bit in his seat, trying to avoid the eyes. Ron was snickering madly again. "You could've fried an egg on your face." "Oh shut up," but Harry gave him a small smile to show he was mostly joking. He shook his head. "After living with only one person for so long, I'd forgotten why I hate people staring at me so much."  
  
The murmur of normal conversation gradually returned, even though many people still glanced at him as often as possible without outright staring. Harry, Ron and Hermione carried on an animated conversation, the couple updating Harry on Hogwarts doings and gossip, and Harry told stories about his training, especially the prank war. As other people came in to eat, more Gryffindors joined in on their conversation. Ginny sat next to Hermione, while Fred and George plopped down across from them. Soon Dean, Seamus, and Neville were also laughing as Harry described a particularly nasty prank of Eva's which involved a shower, an exploding charm, duct tape (for some odd reason she was fond of it), chocolate sauce and a pair of pliers.  
  
The twins were interested in seeing if they could create the same effects in a sweet for their joke shop. Soon Harry had them explaining how they made their matching costumes for the previous night, and the stories resulting therefore. After lunch ended, they continued in this way all the way up to Gryffindor Tower and spent the entire afternoon chatting and laughing. It was a good day.  
  
Right before dinner, Ron found Harry alone in their dormitory. "So you spent over a year training to be a War Mage and kick everybody's arse. Is there anything you can't do?" Harry stopped and considered it. "I still can't play chess to save my life." This got a grin out of Ron, who quickly became serious again. "Was it all hard to learn?" "The magic part was, and very exhausting. I had to learn to use a whole different mindset. The physical training wasn't all that hard, it just required discipline."  
  
Harry glanced over at his friend and guessed what question he was trying to circumvent. "If you're interested, you can join me in the mornings. I could use a partner, and I could teach you some of what I do." Ron appeared to be considering it. "How early do you start?" "Around six. I'll have to work around classes, but that shouldn't be too hard." The red head grimaced; he hated getting up early. But with one look at Harry's new physique he decided it would be worth it. "Sounds good. Start tomorrow?" "Bright and early." With that they walked down to dinner.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Monday's classes for the 5th year Gryffindors began with Double Potions with the Slytherins. One wonders if Voldemort himself didn't have a hand in creating the schedule. The trio hurried through breakfast in order to arrive on time and not give Snape an excuse to subtract house points. As the rest of the class filed in, they glanced over at Harry and muttered to their companions, but all conversations ceased when Snape stalked in.  
  
In years past the Potions Master had always began with a look of loathing in Harry's direction, but today he refused to even look him in the eye for more than a few moments. Harry saw that the hate he'd grown accustomed to had now been replaced by . . . respect? And was that a touch of fear? It was too weird; it must have been the light. Ron remembered Snape's comment about Harry being able to blow him through a wall, and suddenly his behavior made a lot more sense.  
  
They were working on advanced healing potions, especially those used to treat the after-effects of the Cruciatus curse and other methods of magical torture. They were difficult to brew correctly; requiring precise timing and exact measurements, and even Hermione was having problems. Harry, however, took one look at the instructions and began to work silently, concentrating. This was one of the few potions Eva had taught him, all practical for war. The reason for the negligence in this aspect of his training was due to the fact that "Your ancestors want you to learn from the best, and like it or not Severus Snape is one of the best Potions Masters in any realm."  
  
However, with this potion Harry already knew the telltale signs indicating when the next step should begin, and helped Neville surreptitiously with his, mainly to prevent an explosion. Harry was the first one finished mixing the potion, and now it had to simmer for 20 minutes before it could be tested for potency. In the meantime, he sat at his desk with a copy of "Potions: Theory, Applications, and How to Brew Them Without Causing a Catastrophe." It had a particular section that would help him perfect the Detection Parchment as well as create an alarm for him without alerting anyone else.  
  
Snape slithered around the room inspecting the bubbling cauldrons, making nasty comments about the Gryffindors' work but not treating the Slytherins much better as most had completely failed on the potion. A few students had managed to brew a weak version, including Hermione and surprisingly Ron. Finally Snape approached Harry's table, causing Neville to shrink back in terror, but Harry didn't even look up from his reading.  
  
Snape scowled darkly, but picked up the ladle, scooped up a bit and checked the color and consistency. A stunned look briefly crossed his face and he murmured to himself, "Perfect. It's perfect." He quickly settled back into cold indifference. "Potter." Harry finally glanced up with a neutral expression, even as the class focused its attention on him.  
  
"Yes?" "Stay after class. I have to speak with you." Harry nodded briefly and returned to his reading, his work area already spotless. When the bell rang 10 minutes later, there was a general rush for the door, and Ron told Harry they'd wait for him outside. Harry calmly walked to the front of the room and stood at Snape's desk.  
  
"How did you do it Potter?" Snape spoke calmly, but with an odd glitter in his eyes. "That potion is not even on an advanced sixth year curriculum, and . . . even I have some trouble with it. Yet your potion was flawless and extremely potent. How?" Harry shrugged, though inwardly a bit surprised that Snape would admit to any weakness. "I've brewed it before. And I had a good teacher." The Potions Master gazed at him for a moment longer, then "I'll need to bottle some of it for Dumbledore. He'll be needing more soon. Now go to your next class. Dismissed."  
  
Harry found his friends waiting anxiously in the hall, and as they hurried to Transfiguration he told them about Snape's strange behavior.  
  
Professor McGonagall announced as soon as the bell rang that they would be working on object to animal transfiguration, which was difficult and different from animal to object like they had done in the past. She demonstrated by turning her desk into a pig, just as she had in first year, then the students were supposed to turn a quill into a bird.  
  
Harry yawned. He, like his father, had a knack for transfiguration, and the summer training had perfected this ability. He gazed around the room at the other students, watching their attempts. Many quills now had more feathers and some had a head and a beak, but none were even close to being able to fly. The catch was that the wizard had to concentrate not only on changing the physical characteristics, but also the nonmaterial ones, such as animation and thought.  
  
McGonagall's voice broke into his reverie. "Well, Mr. Potter. I don't see you even trying. Perhaps this is too difficult for you?" Harry suppressed a groan as he rolled his eyes. He couldn't make it through a single class without becoming the center of attention. He picked up his wand and concentrated on the eagle quill in front of him. Abruptly it grew into a fully grown golden eagle, which spread its wings and took off with a cry, soaring around the room as everybody ducked.  
  
After it flew a few laps, Harry called it back with a short whistle, and the eagle landed on his outstretched arm. He concentrated again and with a "pop!" the eagle disappeared and the quill fell to the desk. The whole class stared in amazement at Harry, who nonchalantly picked up the quill, loaded it and began sketching on a spare piece of parchment, his face reddening.  
  
McGonagall recovered and ordered the class back to work, then she leaned over Harry's desk and inquired quietly, "What else can you do?" He answered back just as quietly, "When it comes to transfiguration or charms, anything." She nodded slowly and sat back down at her desk. Harry continued sketching until class ended, at which time the professor handed him a note as he departed. Curious, he waited until he was safe in the Charms classroom before opening it.  
  
It simply stated, "Come to my classroom immediately following dinner. Bring your wand." Harry grimaced. Great, this was going to ruin his evening workout with Ron. He had wanted to show him the secret room Godric Gryffindor had built and Harry converted to a gym and weapons training arena.  
  
The rest of the day continued in much the same way, with Harry inadvertently catching the eye of every teacher and drawing more attention to his abilities than he liked. Luckily, Dumbledore had sent him a message at lunch requiring him to attend the dueling club that night, so he didn't have to meet with McGonagall. Unfortunately, they would probably force him to duel, which he really did not want to do in front of most of the school despite the fact that he normally enjoyed it.  
  
Harry ate quietly at dinner, but Ron was amazed at the sheer volume of food he could consume. It was such a change from the previous years, when Harry was still tiny for his age and barely ate enough to sustain a finch. Now he could compete with Ron in appetite. Still he was done very quickly and decided to take a quick ride on his Firebolt.  
  
Harry sprinted to his dormitory, grabbed the broomstick and placed an invisibility spell on himself before jumping out the window. He dove on the broom towards the ground at top speed, all the day's anxieties swept away in the thrill of flying, the wind tugging through his hair relaxing him more that the Jacuzzi back at Eva's could ever manage. Feeling refreshed, he started playing in the air, pulling stunts and tricks with increasing difficultly and concentration, made even more challenging by the fact that both he and the broom were invisible.  
  
He broom-surfed, did flips and handstands in midair while flying level, then while climbing and diving. He even flew far up and jumped off, exhilarating in the sensation of freefall before calling the broom and landing on it with one hand and flipping around to sit on it again. Finally he practiced some Seeker moves he'd read about and wanted to pull on Malfoy in the middle of a game.  
  
Caught up in his flying, Harry suddenly realized that unless he ran he'd be late to the dueling club. He darted downwards and flew through the open doors into the entrance hall. At the doors to the Great Hall he dismounted, transported his broom back to his trunk, wandlessly transfigured his school robes into his favorite dueling clothes and slipped inside before removing the invisibility spell. He glanced around to make sure no one had noticed his sudden appearance before joining the group of 5th year Gryffindors.  
  
Harry saw that all the teachers were here, as were some members of the Order of the Phoenix and the resident Aurors. By the way the students were muttering and pointing, this was not normal which only confirmed Harry's suspicions that they were going to make him show off. He smiled grimly. They wanted a show, so he would oblige them.  
  
Professor Figg clapped her hands, signaling for silence. When the vast crowd had finally quieted, she began. "Now tonight we're going to do something a bit different. We've been practicing new curses, hexes and blocks, now you get to put them to use. What's the use of knowing a spell if you can't do it in battle? I'll be calling up people impairs to duel as we watch, 5 pairs at a time. Whoever disarms their opponent first wins the duel. I don't want any serious injuries or physical contact." Here she glared at the Slytherins in general and Malfoy in particular then began calling up pairs.  
  
Harry could tell she was trying to match up students with equal talents to avoid boredom or discouragement and so the students would push themselves to win. She'd obviously been observing all the students closely. Some duels were over in a handful of seconds, while others lasted a long time. Ron and Seamus dueled each other for over 10 minutes before Ron managed to disarm him and Hermione and Cho Chang dueled so long that Arabella finally declared it a draw.  
  
Soon there were only two people left to go, Harry and Malfoy, who smirked but had a tiny flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Harry shed his outer cloak, leaving his arms bare and unencumbered by his sleeveless shirt. He stepped into the ring, ignoring the catcalls and whistles he drew from the female portion of the crowd. The two opponents faced each other, never taking their eyes off each other even as they gave brief nods in place of the bows Arabella instructed them to do.  
  
On her count of three, Malfoy shot two quick curses at Harry, who dodged them casually. He wanted to get a feel of Malfoy's abilities first. The next several curses Malfoy sent were either gracefully dodged or blocked, and he was growing extremely frustrated. "Why aren't you fighting back?!" he muttered darkly to himself, glaring at his rival. Finally he threw several curses in quick succession, pain curses that would smash through a Shield charm and could break bones and cause other serious injuries. Obviously he had decided that Professor Figg's punishment would be worth it to see Harry injured.  
  
Harry for his part didn't even bother trying to dodge the spread, but rather snapped up a Shield charm. Unfortunately for Malfoy, Harry could put a lot of power behind his shield, so the curses smashed into it and dissipated, except for one. He let it through and swung his wand like a tennis racket, propelling the spell back to its originator. Malfoy barely ducked in time, the reflected curse singeing a patch of white-blonde hair off the top of his head.  
  
Now Harry went on the offensive, throwing curses and hexes so fast Malfoy couldn't avoid them all. He tried a Shield charm, but it was broken with a well-placed Jelly-Legs jinx. As he wobbled in the ring, Harry showed him a predatory smile and with a slight wave of his hand, Malfoy disappeared, his wand clattering to the floor.  
  
In his place quivered a bright pink ferret, which weaved around on unstable legs as if drunk.  
  
The Gryffindors laughed especially hard and cheered the return of the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, now in Techicolor. Harry stepped out of the ring with a small salute, and Malfoy reappeared, face burning red in humiliation as he tried to undo the Jelly-Legs. Arabella simply looked a bit amused and arched an eyebrow at Harry, then she spoke above the noise of the crowd.  
  
"I think we should end with an exhibition match. Harry, if you would please come back up here?" Harry grimaced, unseen, then reluctantly reentered the ring. "Your opponents will be . . . Mundungus Fletcher, Bill Weasley, and myself." There were gasps from the crowd as they all shook hands. A three on one duel with a student? That was so unfair.  
  
Arabella continued, "This will be a no holds barred duel, meaning all spells except illegal ones are allowed, as well as physical contact and weapons other than wands. Again, the duel ends when the opponent or opponents are disarmed." Now there were several shocked and pale faces in the crowd. A single thought echoed as the duelers bowed.  
  
"This is going to be messy."  
  
On three, the 3 older people all cast their spells. Harry leapt 10 feet into the air and cast 3 of his own in quick succession before he landed, forcing them to scatter. He dove and rolled, coming up at Fletcher's feet and swiftly disarming him with a simple twist of the wrist. Then with a back handspring he faced Bill. Arabella tried to sneak up behind Harry and stun him, but he ducked at the last moment as the spell came and it hit Bill instead. He hit the floor with a solid thud even as Harry whirled around to face the professor.  
  
They traded several curses back and forth, constantly moving, before Harry suddenly rolled forward, planted his hands on the floor and swept his legs through Arabella's ankles, dumping her on the floor. He then sprang back to his feet, Arabella a few moments behind him. She gazed shrewdly at him, muttered a quick incantation and her wand lengthened into a gleaming sword. She lunged at his chest and he dodged, then leapt back to avoid her stabbing blade and rolled under it to come up behind her. One hand darted behind his back and quick as lightning he pulled out his own sword, the blade expanding from convenient travel size to battle mode.  
  
Arabella's eyebrows threatened to secede into her hairline in astonishment, but she quickly refocused as Harry swung expertly at her. Their swords clashed against each other for several minutes as they dueled back and forth. Soon she was sweaty and panting for breath, while he appeared perfectly fresh and relaxed. Blocking a slightly clumsy lunge, his wrist twisted peculiarly and her sword flew out of her hand, the blade slapping her fingers and making them sting harshly. Harry resheathed his sword on his back, then a noise behind him made him spin around.  
  
Bill had woken up, and since he had never dropped his wand, was still an active opponent. He cast two Stunning spells in Harry's direction, which Harry had to dive to the side to avoid. He threw a couple spells which the eldest Weasley blocked before retaliating, and Harry reflected them back. Then he crouched and leapt at Bill in a tackle, and something completely unexpected happened.  
  
Harry's body lengthened and filled out as his skin became covered in fur, his hands and feet turned into paws with giant claws, his mouth and nose elongated into a muzzle filled with sharp teeth, and his hair transformed into a wild mane. Bill was driven to the ground by an incredible weight on his chest and he hit the floor hard, his wand skittering away from his hand. He shook his head, dazed, then looked up to find he was face to face with an enormous golden lion with a black mane and green eyes crouching over him. Bill froze instinctively.  
  
The lion seemed to grin, then backed off and transformed back into Harry Potter. With a slight smile he offered Bill a hand up, then turned to Arabella Figg and said quite calmly, "Thank you for the workout. I enjoyed it thoroughly." With that, he gathered up his cloak, bid them all good night and walked out of the hall.  
  
As soon as the doors swung shut with a resounding bang, the utter silence exploded into pandemonium as everyone started shouting excitedly about the spectacle they just witnessed. Most of the older folks stared at each other in disbelief, then Dumbledore and several others tried to make their way through the crowd to go after Harry. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, amazement on their features, before tearing after them.  
  
But when they all reached the corridor outside the Great Hall, it was deserted. 


	9. Kicking into High Gear

Disclaimer: you recognize it, I don't own it. So there.  
  
A/N: My my, you guys certainly get antsy when I leave for a few days. I really did enjoy my trip, it was a blast and I thoroughly wore my feet out. I was surprised at the reactions my little notice invoked. I realize that not many people like long-hair Harry *giggles* but there is a point to it. All questions will be answered in the course of the fic, and no, I won't give any teasers. Eva will be back though.  
  
Some personal notes: koneko- thanks, I try to insert my own special brand of insane humor into my writing, and I'm glad you find it funny. Don't worry, I have problems too. Shadowaren- thanks ever so much, I appreciate your review. I've been reading your stories and find them of very high quality. Go ahead and use the time stopping idea; I don't know where it came from, it just solved several problems for my story. The person with the coolest penname- YOU'RE AWESOME!! And the person who thinks Eva is a really bad Mary-Sue of the worst kind- see the note from the end of chapter 3. And I can growl louder than you can.  
  
Now on to the main event.  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Snape was the first to reach the doors and sprinted uncharacteristically through, expecting to find Harry climbing up the marble staircase towards the Gryffindor Tower. To his surprise, (then he wondered to himself why was he surprised) it was deserted. The other professors came crashing out behind him and also stared around.  
  
Ron and Hermione joined them, and then the redhead announced, "He probably went up to bed. I'll go check," and sprinted off, Hermione hot on his heels. Ron burst through the portrait hole and headed straight for the dormitory, but she stayed behind and asked the Fat Lady whether Harry had come up yet.  
  
"No dear, no one's been through here since dinner, until that rude young man barged in like that." She was looking highly affronted when Ron came back through. "He's not there," he reported, and they trudged back down to the Hall to the waiting professors, only to shake their heads to Dumbledore's inquiring look.  
  
The headmaster sighed and signaled the entire group to follow him. No one said a word as they pushed through the crowds of chattering students exiting from the Hall, then traveled up the staircases to the entrance of Dumbledore's office. He gave the gargoyle the password (Canary Creams) and marched them up to his circular office, which magically expanded to accommodate them all.  
  
Dumbledore settled behind his enormous desk and said, "I believe it's fairly obvious that Harry has decided to conceal a few things about himself from us. How has he been in classes?" Slowly, the professors who had already had Harry described the incredible ease he had demonstrated in all his subjects so far. Then Ron told of the training program he and Harry had begun that morning, which included some martial arts and basic sword training.  
  
The headmaster shook his head. "So he never gave any indication that he was an Animagus?" Negative answers all around, and he walked over to stare out the window, muttering almost to himself. "He must have a plan to face Voldemort again. But how did he get so powerful? Not even his status as a blood heir would have made that great of a difference in such a short time. And it appears that he might be holding back. But if he is that strong, why did he return here? By all indications he could probably graduate tomorrow, yet he came back. What is he planning?"  
  
Everyone listened in silence to the quiet questions, almost rhetorical in nature. Then Dumbledore turned and addressed them directly. "Observe him indiscreetly. If he starts behaving stranger than usual, report it to me. Especially you two," he pointed to Ron and Hermione, "he trusts you both and may tell you something. I suspect he may be planning to go after Voldemort himself."  
  
Every person in the room blanched at the thought. Sirius blurted out, "That's suicide! How could he even think about that? I mean, I know he's gotten much stronger, but he'd be up against all the Death Eaters before he could even reach the Dark Lord. Is he crazy?!"  
  
The aged wizard nodded solemnly. "He might be." He turned back to the window. "You know what his childhood was like, always told that he was a worthless freak," this was almost growled out. "Then he suddenly finds out that he is heir to three Hogwarts founders and is trained to use incredible power. That power may have gone to his head, and he's convinced that he is invincible. That is . . . very dangerous."  
  
As the gathered adults considered this disturbing theory, Ron was completely confused. Had the headmaster finally gone senile? How could they all have forgotten the meeting right after the Halloween masquerade? Harry had explained how powerful he really was, about being a war mage and the prophecy about his inheritance of Merlin's abilities. Ron had not been surprised at the outcome of the duel, but had been slightly upset that Harry had never mentioned his Animagus form.  
  
And as for You-Know-Who, Ron knew that Harry could take him any day now. During the morning training his friend had demonstrated some wandless and Elemental magic at Ron' request, and even let him briefly hold the staff and examine it while he explained what it was made out of and how it worked.  
  
Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was looking just as perplexed as he was at their elders' apparent memory lapse. They silently decided not to mention it before they talked to Harry. Hermione flicked her eyes around the room, taking in the various expressions as Dumbledore dismissed them and reminded them to keep a close watch on Harry, and for just a second thought she saw the same confusion she felt reflected in Snape's dark eyes. Then his impassive mask fell again as he stalked out of the room, and she was sure she just imagined it.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
As soon as he was out of sight of the Hall and the view of others, Harry Apparated to the top of the Astronomy Tower again to sit and think in peace. It was funny to think that it was considered impossible to Apparate around the school, yet all that was required was a little bubble inside the wards to make it a viable reality. Although, Harry admitted wryly to himself, just to create that bubble required a great deal of concentration of wandless magic, the knowledge of which had been lost since the end of the war mages.  
  
Back to the duel. That first night he had never told them the true extent of his training or powers. They had no idea that for practice he dueled against Eva and five practice dummies at the same time, all autonomous with Eva's knowledge and skill behind them. So for him, taking on two former Aurors and an Order member of the same caliber was a piece of cake. Still, he had not wanted to show off all of his abilities in front of the entire school. He obviously was not thinking, since that last bit with the Animagus was completely instinctual. He mentally berated himself for his lack of control. So much for keeping secrets.  
  
As his eyes traced the stars' pattern in the sky, Harry mentally checked off everything he needed to begin his commando campaign against Voldemort and his followers. The only thing left that he could see was to practice the clone, mainly checking the initial conjuration speed and testing the reabsorption and learning charms. He summoned the Marauder's Map to him and searched for an empty classroom. Finding one in the Charms corridor, he Apparated there.  
  
After a quick locking and silencing charm on the room to protect his privacy, Harry began his testing. After an hour he was able to conjure up the projection almost instantaneously, which pleased him. Then he tested the durability and ability of the clone. He had "him" read a chapter of a random book he found in the class, some cheesy Muggle romance novel shoved under the front desk, then he summoned "him" back into himself. The two identical bodies fused and became one again, and Harry suddenly could recall the entire chapter of the book as if he had read it himself. He grimaced; next time he would choose a boring textbook, because that romance novel was horrible. *How could anybody read those things?*  
  
Oh well. It was ready. Time for the fun to begin.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron and Hermione hurried toward their dormitories as Filch would love to catch them outside after curfew. Just as they reached the portrait hole, they heard a noise off to the right and turned to see their elusive friend walking tiredly toward them. Ron rushed over and muttered quietly, "We've gotta talk mate," and led him back down the corridor to a secluded corner, not trusting the privacy of the Common Room.  
  
Hermione cast a Silencing charm so they would not be overheard, and Harry's eyes flicked between their solemn faces. "What is it?" Hermione quickly recounted the meeting in the headmaster's office, with Ron jumping in to contribute every now and then. "They all seem to have forgotten most of the things you told all of us just two nights ago, such as being a war mage and the Phoenix Lord and the heir of Merlin. What do you think happened?"  
  
Harry looked puzzled for a minute, then grimaced and slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. Ron asked, concerned, "What? Is it your scar again? D'you think You-Know-Who's behind this?" Harry shook his head, exasperated at himself. "No, it was me. I did something stupid. I walked through the Shield charm that night when I was mad without taking it down first. That's the one problem with that particular charm. It reacted with my emotions to block the specific memories of the meeting from everybody who passed the boundary after me. I knew better than that!"  
  
Now Hermione was slightly confused. "But then how come Ron and I still remember?" Harry paused. "You were both mad, no, furious when you crossed the barrier. Strong emotions like that can prevent the block from working in your mind. And teenagers have more volatile emotions than adults, so the others would not have been quite as upset." He sighed. "Maybe it's better this way. I didn't really want to tell everything that night, but I couldn't exactly show up and say 'Look everyone, I'm back! You just can't know where I've been for the last three months.' Now it doesn't matter that I did. We three can share the secret, and I know I can trust you."  
  
Suddenly he smiled a bit sheepishly. "Oh, and you were probably wondering about the finale of tonight's duel. Well, the truth is . . . I'm a magical Animagus." Hermione gasped. "Harry, that's amazing! There has only been four magical Animagi in history!" Harry explained to Ron, who was looking rather baffled, "I can transform into any animal I want. Tonight I didn't really mean to transform, instinct just kind of took over. I wanted to keep it a secret, but the cat's out of the bag now, huh?" Ron agreed wholeheartedly, "Literally."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The next morning dawned bright and clear to find Harry and Ron hard at work finishing their morning run. After some cool down they worked on some flips and tumbles and Harry coached Ron through basic sword drills with a broadsword. Finally they headed for breakfast, Ron's stomach grumbling loudly in anticipation.  
  
When the mail arrived, Hedwig flew in to see Harry, since she'd been away for the past few days. She landed on his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek affectionately with her soft head, while he stroked her feathers on her favorite spot right below the left shoulder. She stayed a few minutes after the other owls left, just enjoying the company of her master and friend, then flew off with a piece of bacon to go nap in the Owlry.  
  
The rest of the day was progressing just like normal until Charms. Right in the middle of Professor Flitwick's lecture on basic protection charms Harry's left arm began to sting lightly. That was his alarm, indicating Death Eater attacks. Luckily he had sat in the back of the room, so after a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, he conjured the clone and the instant it appeared in his place, he Apparated to his room.  
  
Harry checked his Detection Parchment, making a mental note to keep it on himself so he could go directly there without this little stopover. The Death Eaters were running rampant in a small village in Wales, and the Aurors had not shown up yet. Perfect. Harry smiled grimly. Foolish of them to attack in the middle of the day. He would show them how much of a mistake that really was.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Lucius Malfoy, completely masked in his Death Eater outfit, put another terrified Muggle under the Cruciatus curse and watched her scream and writhe. The raid was going off without a hitch so far. The Aurors had not Apparated in yet, and the village was already mostly destroyed, several houses on fire while other were just smoking ruins. They had come for a wizard family that thought they would be safe from the Dark Lord's retribution by hiding among Muggles.  
  
Malfoy snickered coldly and stalked off to see if he could get a chance to torture them. That was his favorite sport, and he always got such a pleasurable thrill knowing he could control people through pain. Besides, the Muggles were starting to bore him. Wizards at least knew what was happening to them.  
  
The Yancey family- father, mother, and two sons- all knelt in a circle of Death Eaters, frightened out of their wits but trying not to show it. MacNair stepped up and cast the Cruciatus on the youngest son, laughing as the mother screamed helplessly as she watched her son convulse in pure agony. The other robed figures joined in on the laughter, creating a sickening counterpoint to the shrieks of pain.  
  
Abruptly the screams stopped as the curse was lifted, and a disembodied voice growled, "Leave them alone if you know what's good for you." The gathered Dark wizards spun around searching for the owner to that voice, and Malfoy spoke up in contempt, "Are you too scared to show us your face? Come on out and quit hiding."  
  
The air reverberated with muted chuckles. "I'm not scared of little parasites like you. You want to see my face? Very well." A shadowy figure suddenly appeared behind Malfoy, which was perceived to be a tall, dark haired man in a leather trenchrobe, his face obscured except for the almost- glowing blue-green eyes. Malfoy only sniffed disdainfully, "and who do you think you are?"  
  
The man only chuckled. "I know who I am, and you will soon learn." With that, the wizard held out a hand and the entire circle was lifted off their feet and spun nauseatingly in the air like dust mites on the wind. Their wands flew to the man's feet, and ropes sprang out of nowhere to bind and gag the now thoroughly dizzy and sick Death Eaters. Then they were dumped on the hard ground in a pile.  
  
The man bared his teeth in a sinister smile. "Around here I'm known as Wraith." He turned and stalked quickly toward another groups of attacking wizards, and launched himself into a flying leap so the lead Death Eater caught both booted feet right in the face and fell to the ground unconscious. The other four of the group trained their wands on this new threat, but darts suddenly shot out of his sleeves and embedded themselves in their throats. The men gasped, choked, and fell senseless as the sleeping potion took effect.  
  
Soon all of the Death Eaters were dealt with in a similar fashion, gathered up in a gigantic pile in the center of town, all bound and gagged. The fires raging through the houses were put out with a snap of Wraith's fingers, and he treated the Cruciatus victims as well as he could, removing the lingering aches and damage. Finally, when the town was set back to rights, he raises his hand in the air and pointed his palm at the ghastly Dark Mark hovering above the village. Light erupted from his palm and formed a giant phoenix with a lion on its chest, which glowed a brilliant golden and dissipated the hideous skull and snake.  
  
As the gathered villagers gazed up in wonder, the mysterious wizard Apparated out, at the exact moment the Aurors showed up, 10 minutes after the attack began. The Aurors all came prepared for battle, but were completely unprepared for what they found. The villagers were all chattering excitedly, none of them visibly harmed. The Yancey family knelt together in the center of town, hugging each other tightly and crying with relief. A huge pile of Death Eaters lay unmasked behind them, bound and gagged under the light of a golden phoenix in the sky.  
  
They stared around with perplexity for a second, then began to sort out all the chaos. The villagers told a spectacular story of a mystery man all in black who took out all the invaders with apparent ease, before healing them and conjuring the phoenix, and then just vanished. The wizarding family had been close enough to catch a name: Wraith.  
  
Meanwhile the agents of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement began to deal with the captured Death Eaters, which totaled 27 including three known members of the Inner Circle. The biggest surprise, however, came when they found a short, balding man with a silver hand lying unconscious at the very bottom of the pile. Someone gasped in astonishment. "Peter Pettigrew!"  
  
All the while, Harry Potter stood hidden in the shadows of the forest nearby, laughing.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The rest of the year passed in an almost perfectly normal fashion, which was a rarity for Hogwarts. Alicia Spinnet handed the captaincy of the Gryffindor Quidditch team over to Harry, who pushed them just as hard if not harder than Wood ever did. Classes returned to normal, except for Harry was now getting the top grades, edging out Hermione by a few points each time, and Ron was not far behind them, thanks to Harry tutoring him. The Weasley twins were constantly inventing new pranks to play on the Slytherins, but one day they made a critical mistake.  
  
Bored with their regular targets, the twins decided to prank Harry and Ron together. Overnight their hair changed to shocking neon pink and green, which also stuck up as if they had just tangled with a bunch of electric eels in a lightning storm. Their skin was charmed a flashing purple, clashing horribly with the bright red dots sprinkled about on it. Just to add insult to injury, neither of the boys could speak without breaking out into song. When they came down to the Common Room that morning, everyone present had laughed so hard puddles of various bodily fluids appeared on the floor. Luckily Harry broke the enchantments rather quickly, so most people never saw them.  
  
The resulting retribution on Fred and George made it quite clear why it was unhealthy to prank the son of a Marauder. Especially one with such a diabolical mind and training. Harry with Ron's assistance recreated what he affectionately termed Eva's chocolate incident, and sprung it on them in the middle of a Potions class. It was so fiendishly clever and publicly humiliating, the twins promised to never target them again. For an entire week the pranksters could not enter the Great Hall without someone giggling and starting a chain reaction of uncontrollable laughter.  
  
During the Christmas break, Sirius turned himself in to the Ministry so his trial could take place. After Wormtail's capture and subsequent interrogation, Sirius' innocence was guaranteed, and the judge quickly pardoned him with two million Galleons in restitution for 12 years of wrongful imprisonment. Also the deed to his family manor was presented back to him, with most of his things impounded after his arrest. Wormtail and Lucius Malfoy were both convicted of being Death Eaters, along with 25 others, and sentenced to Azkaban for life. After that Draco was no longer slinking around the school looking smug. In fact, he looked rather lost and depressed, despite the fact that there was no love lost between father and son.  
  
After Sirius was pardoned unconditionally, the Ministry called a vote of no confidence and a threat of impeachment against Cornelius Fudge. In the end he was kicked out of office, arrested and charged with conspiracy to institute a cover-up concerning Voldemort's return, withholding critical information and jeopardizing the safety of the wizarding world. While very serious, these charges would not land him in Azkaban if convicted. A general election for a new Minister of Magic was held, a new occurrence since usually a department head was chosen from the Ministry at large. However, the powers-that-be knew that the wizarding community needed to be united in the fight against Voldemort, and needed to know their leaders.  
  
Dumbledore was nominated, but refused it and promoted Arthur Weasley in his place. With that respectable endorsement, Arthur won by a landslide, and with his new promotion came a huge pay raise. The family tore down their old home and built a new one on the same property, with 10 bedrooms and bathrooms, a kitchen large enough to make Molly and the new house elves happy, a library, and a blastproof room for the twins to invent in. They were getting tired of constantly mending the holes in the walls and floor due to failed experiments.  
  
But all these changes happened in the outside world. At Hogwarts there were no new mysteries to solve, no Dementors, basilisks or convicts running amok, and no new death threats from Voldemort. It was actually getting kind of boring, to tell the truth. There was one slightly unusual thing though, and of course that was Harry Potter.  
  
Death Eater attacks continued, but more and more were being stopped before the Aurors could arrive, and always with the Light Mark cast into the sky. Dozens of Dark wizards were found subdued and trussed up like turkeys at each site. No one knew anything about the mystery wizard who was behind it, despite the Ministry's best efforts. The professors and students of Hogwarts, however, had noted Harry Potter behaving a bit strangely. He would seem anxious and tense for a few moments and zone out, the suddenly pop right back to normal. Within an hour the same symptoms would appear, and his eyes seemed to flicker before returning to the present, always with a secretive smirk on his face that disappeared almost instantly.  
  
These little episodes always took place before and after the foiled Death Eater attacks, and one would think that somebody would eventually get suspicious. However, not all the attacks were reported in the Daily Prophet, and Harry tended to keep a low profile as often as he could, and therefore few people connected the two. In all likelihood the only people who did were Ron and Hermione, because Harry had told them what he was doing. While they hated the fact that their friend was fighting without them, they had to admit that he was pretty damn effective.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
In April, the entire school was gripped with a tremendous excitement. Not only were Hogsmeade weekends reinstated due to the decreased threat of attack, but the final game for the Quidditch Cup was almost there. In a surprise victory, the Ravenclaw team clobbered the Slytherins 290-50, and would now play the Gryffindors for the cup. The two houses were neck in neck with points, so whoever won would most likely also win the House Cup.  
  
A friendly rivalry ran between the two houses, nothing like the Gryffindor/Slytherin animosity of legend. The Hufflepuffs were uncertain as to whom they should support, and the Slytherins hated both of them, but especially Gryffindor and specifically Harry Potter. Most of their parents had been Death Eaters or at least supporters and they suspected that Potter had something to do with their downfalls.  
  
The Saturday of the match dawned bright and clear, with just a light trace of mugginess to indicate rain sometime in the near future. While the two competing teams looked nervous as they chewed their bacon, Harry outwardly appeared exceptionally calm and composed. Internally though, he was slightly shaken and apprehensive. Not about the match however; he had every confidence in his team and their abilities.  
  
No, he was worried about his campaign against the Dark side. One of the recent attacks turned out to be a trap set for him, and came within a hair's breadth of killing him. He mused over the consequences of that as he picked at his toast, unable to eat. Voldemort was getting smarter as his troops dwindled, and began to use his resources carefully. He now suspected that Harry was somehow involved, and Harry knew that his friends were in greater danger from the obsessed maniac. Harry needed to rethink some of his strategies to anticipate another trap like that, and had already traveled to the Grangers and the Weasleys houses, as well as Remus' and Sirius', to enhance the protection wards and add some of his own. He did the same around Hogsmeade and Hogwarts as well, without Dumbledore's knowledge.  
  
Harry also began to surreptitiously arrange where he would stay for the summer. It was far too dangerous for him to go with the Weasleys or to move in with Sirius yet. Instead, with Eva's assistance he purchased a piece of land up in the highlands and built his own house there, which included an indoor gym and pool, a complete weight room and gymnastics setup, a weapons room, training areas, a rather big kitchen, and several guestrooms. The place was Unplottable and invisible to all but a select few. The entire house was magical, always clean and dust free, the kitchen well stocked with food, and rooms could be added or removed as needed.  
  
It had been difficult sneaking out at times, even with the clone to take his place, and a couple times he had almost been caught while creeping back in when he was too exhausted to Apparate. Harry knew the professors were all under orders to watch him, and sometimes this rather complicated things.  
  
Harry forced his mind back to the present. Now he needed to concentrate on Quidditch. The Ravenclaw team was led this year by Cho Chang and had become quite good. It was going to be a tough game, so Harry had worked his team harder than ever, mainly to increase their own confidence in their ever improving skills. Breakfast that morning seemed to last forever. Finally they rose as one to head down to the pitch, and the Hall burst into applause, several people wishing them luck.  
  
The team walked around the pitch, inspecting the conditions until they saw the rest of the school start down the lawn to the stadium. "Locker room," Harry ordered, and they filed in and dressed quietly, butterflies somehow becoming lodged in their stomachs next to the masticated bacon. They gathered around Harry, who began his short pregame speech.  
  
"Alright people. For some of you this is your last time on the Quidditch pitch here at Hogwarts. Let's make it memorable. Ravenclaw is a good team, but we know that we're better. Play your best and we will win. All right, hands in." With a loud shout of "GRYFFINDOR!" the team stepped out onto the pitch.  
  
As always, Lee Jordan was commentating, closely monitored by McGonagall. "Welcome to the final of the Quidditch cup! Today's match up, just in case you've had your head under a rock for the past month, is Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor. This is going to be tight today people. The Lions, led by Captain Harry Potter, have proven themselves to be exceptional this year, while the Eagles with Captain Cho Chang delivered a surprise upset to compete here today. Now Madame Hooch steps out on the field and releases the balls."  
  
"Captains, shake hands." Harry and Cho briefly grasped hands and nodded with tight smiles on their faces. "Players, mount your brooms." And with a blast of her whistle, 15 brooms shot into the air and the game began. Harry rose higher than anyone, keeping one eye out for the Snitch and the other on Cho, the opposing Seeker.  
  
"Johnson has the Quaffle, passes it off to Bell, who streaks for the goal . . . Bludger knocked the Quaffle out of her hands, caught by Boot, he hands it off to Brocklehurst, she's flying towards the goal, shoots . . . saved by Keeper Weasley! Spinnet takes possession, dodges two Bludgers, passes to Johnson, she evades Boot, she shoots . . . SHE SCORES! 10-0 Gryffindor!"  
  
Just then Harry spotted the Snitch lurking in the middle of the field, and he took off after it, Cho hot on his tail. The tiny golden ball darted away, zigzagging through the Chasers, and the two Seekers followed in its wake. Harry caught a glimpse of movement and ducked just as a Bludger whooshed through the spot his head has just vacated. George swung his bat and the Bludger shot straight back at Cho. She avoided it, but instead collided with one of her own Chasers, leaving Katie open to score, now 20- 0.  
  
Harry had never taken his eyes off the Snitch and was now only a couple feet from it, when it abruptly disappeared. He did not see where it went, but did belatedly realize he was pelting headlong towards the stands and was only yards away from a very painful impact. He waited until the last moment, barely aware of the screams from the spectators, then suddenly swung off his broom, only hanging on by one hand and giving the tail a kick. His Firebolt whipped around to face in the opposite direction, and Harry used his feet to shove off from the stands, propelling him and the broom forward in an extra spurt of speed as he remounted. He dimly heard the shouts of amazement and Jordan's sputtered commentary at the insane maneuver as he scanned for the Snitch again.  
  
The Gryffindors seemed heartened and energized by their captain's incredible flying skills and pushed their own skills to new heights. The Ravenclaws tried to keep up, but the score mounted. Soon Lee Jordan was gleefully shouting a score of 140-50. Ron gained more confidence and made some spectacular saves that even Wood would have been hard-pressed to duplicate. The game wore on, but the Snitch was nowhere to be seen. Clouds built up, and the smell of approaching rain filled the air. Soon echoes of the thunder rumbled through the mountains. A huge storm was brewing, and Harry wanted to catch the Snitch before it got too bad. He tended to have bad luck in storms.  
  
With the first flash of lightning, the rain started falling, then pouring. It was like trying to fly underwater in the lake, and visibility was cut to practically zero. Harry got a pricking sense of danger, and dove to the right just as a huge bolt of lightning cleaved the air where he had been hovering. He let out a short stream of explicatives he had learnt from both Ron and Eva, then as another bolt flashed nearby, he saw the Snitch, diving towards the ground.  
  
Harry tore after it, narrowly avoiding people and Bludgers, when suddenly Cho was there beside him, shoving him off course. He pushed right back while locking his gaze on the elusive golden speck through the gray haze of rain. Cho darted forward with an extra spurt of speed, cutting Harry off and forcing him to slow down. He frowned briefly, then flipped upside down and flew right beneath Cho, gauging the distances. The Snitch kept diving downwards until it skimmed along the grass below.  
  
Just as Cho reached out to grasp the Snitch, Harry kicked upwards and connected with her broom, sending her spiraling out of control away from it. With sheer brute strength he forced his broom to remain on level, and still inverted, he urged the Firebolt forward the last little bit and closed his fingers on the cold, wet, struggling Snitch. A far off whistle sounded, signaling the end of the game, and Harry spun upright again to rise into the air, the small golden ball held tight in his raised fist. Cheering was dimly audible above the rush of rain, and he could see six blurry figures racing for him.  
  
Abruptly the rain quit and an eerie silence pervaded the stadium. For a moment Harry was reminded of the unpleasant Quidditch match in third year. Rain . . . silence . . . Dementors. This train of thought was cut off when an enormous bolt of lightning about the width of a classroom cracked through the storm clouds to strike Harry. He had a brief glimpse of everybody's horrified faces, then a blinding flash of light and a roar filled his senses, and he blacked out. 


	10. Azkaban

Just in case: read chapter 9 before you read this. FF.net decided that uploading the new chapter in place of the author's note does not technically count as an update, so it doesn't show up as recently updated despite the new material. Sorry to all of you who think I forgot about you, but I did write some more in the hard copy when I wasn't typing.  
  
Chapter 10  
  
Ron and the rest of the team had rushed towards Harry, cheering wildly over their win when the lightning had struck. The sheer force of the bolt was astounding, and the subsequent concussion wave threw them backwards as if tossed by a grouchy giant to crash into the stadium walls. The lightning had blinded them all, a brief afterimage of Harry etched in their vision by the searing light. Eyes watered and blinked desperately trying to restore normal sight. For several long moments nobody moved, unable to see or to comprehend what they had seen.  
  
As soon as his vision cleared, Ron staggered to his feet, spitting out blood from where his teeth had clicked sharply shut on his tongue as he searched wildly around for his friend. The rain that had started falling again slowly died, and the clouds broke to allow sunlight to pour through. Eyes dazzled once again, this time by sunlight, Ron could make out a dark shape lying on the grass ahead, and he ran towards it, footsteps from the other team members following him.  
  
By the time he reached it, he could see clearly again and stumbled to a halt, stunned and uncertain. He could hear gasps from members of both house teams, as well as screams from the crowd as they piled onto the filed, Hermione in the lead. The professors sprinted as fast as they could to the circle of people around the figure on the grass, and stopped dead in their tracks, gasping for breath.  
  
Harry lay facedown and unmoving, his crimson robes scorched and charred in several places. One hand, still clutching the Snitch lay outstretched, and his Firebolt hovered next to his prone body, seemingly undamaged. Smoke and steam rose from the still body, but aside from that, the scene was too reminiscent of the Third Task, after Harry had escaped from Voldemort and returned with Cedric's body. Ron shook this unpleasant thought away and knelt, rolling his friend over onto his back.  
  
Beneath the mud, Harry's face was pale, actually more of a dead white, and Ron's heart almost stopped when he could not hear him breathing. But he leaned closer to check as he cradled Harry's head in his lap and could faintly catch a slight exhalation of air. Hermione dropped to her knees beside them. "Is he . . . alive?" she asked breathlessly, looking ready to burst into tears at the wrong answer. Ron nodded just as Dumbledore and McGonagall shoved through the crowd to join them.  
  
Harry's head lolled against Ron's knees, and the hair covering his forehead parted to reveal his scar, which was now pulsing with an eerie golden light. Hermione gaped at it, then glanced at the hand she clutched in her own. The tattoo was glowing too and it felt warm, but not burning. After several seconds the glow faded completely.  
  
Suddenly Harry inhaled sharply, the started coughing, a few faint wisps of smoke drifting from his mouth. His eyes blinked open and focused on Ron's worried face, and he grinned weakly. "Hi." Ron stared at him a moment, then burst out yelling, "Gods Harry! You scared the living crap out of me! Don't you ever do that again!" Harry remarked dryly, "I'll try not to make it a regular occurrence." With the help of his friends he sat up and wiped the mud off his face with one sleeve. Dumbledore joined the crowd in a general sigh of relief and inquired "How are you feeling Harry?"  
  
"A little well done, but otherwise fine." Harry turned to his team waiting anxiously behind Ron, smirked a bit and extended his fist towards them. "We won," he stated simply, a twinkle in his eyes. The Weasleys stared at him like he was completely crazy, then chuckled, which set everyone off around them. Harry pressed himself to his feet and all the Gryffindors cheered as he handed the Snitch to Madame Hooch.  
  
The team shook hands with the disappointed Ravenclaws, the final score 320- 110, and Dumbledore brought over the huge Quidditch Cup to hand over to Harry. He lifted it and passed it over to the rest of the team, and they gathered around it cheering ecstatically. The entire school, with the exception of a few Slytherins, congratulated them on the most exciting game many had ever seen or would see.  
  
As they all headed back to the castle celebrating, Professor McGonagall tried to convince Harry to go to the hospital wing to get checked out, but he refused. "I'm perfectly fine. Besides, I'm sure Madame Pomfrey would not be happy to see me again. I'm in there too much as it is." The Gryffindors refused to let him out of their sight anyways, so they started a raucous party as soon as they reached the Common Room, trying to make enough noise to annoy the Slytherins all the way down in the dungeons.  
  
Some house elves brought in food, and Fred and George vanished for a while to return with Honeydukes candies and bottles of butterbeer. When the party was in full swing, Harry climbed up on one of the chairs and shouted for attention. "Let's have a toast for the best Quidditch team Hogwarts has seen in years!" Cheers and whistles erupted, and he waved them down after a moment.  
  
"To Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, the three most amazing Chasers who can fly circles around anyone!" Applause and whistles answered this pronouncement. "To Gred and Forge, whose Beater skills are only rivaled by their pranking skills!" Laughs and applause rang as the two pretended to blush while bowing deeply and theatrically. "To Ron, who showed us today that he could rival Wood as a Keeper any day of the week!" Loud cheers and yells as Ron blushed as red as his robes, and Hermione gave him a quick kiss.  
  
Then Alicia leapt up on the chair next to Harry's. "And finally to our very own Captain Harry, the youngest Seeker in a century whose superior flying skills have shown that even lightning storms can't stop him from catching the Snitch!" At this statement, Harry would not have been surprised if the castle walls had shaken apart due to the tremendous volume of noise the House made. He raised his bottle of butterbeer, prompting everyone to follow suit, and together they shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
The crowd broke up into smaller groups after that, chatting enthusiastically, and Harry found himself mobbed by people congratulating him on his spectacular catch and questioning him about the lightning. He was in the middle of explaining that he could not explain what had happened when Professor McGonagall climbed through the portrait hole and motioned for him to follow her. He struggled his way through the excitable crowd and joined her out in the corridor. "What's this about professor?"  
  
"Dumbledore has called a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix and requested that you attend. We have questions that you may have answers to." They walked through the long corridors to the headmaster's office, and she gave the password (Kona Coffee Swirls) and soon Harry found himself in the chamber face to face with the entire Order once again. Apparently they had all attended the match. They stared at him with a mixture of awe, respect, and bemusement so he glanced around at the chamber to try and ignore their probing eyes.  
  
Dumbledore drew his attention with a small cough. "So Harry, what exactly happened out there today?" Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "What did it look like?" Sirius broke in with a frown. "It looked like you should've been fried to a crisp by that bolt, but you're completely unscathed." "Not completely." At their questioning looks, he undid the top few laces on his shirt to reveal a lightning-shaped cut right above his heart, very similar to the famous one on his forehead.  
  
Snape did roll his eyes. "Oh, a little scratch, too bad," he sneered. "Come on Potter, you know as well as I do that you should be dead right now, a little stain on the pitch, or at least in the hospital wing with massive burns. Your hair isn't even singed! Now how did you do it?"  
  
Harry sighed. "I didn't do anything. It happened naturally." Arabella glared at his skeptically. "That's natural?" "It is for an Elemental." This little pronouncement caused an uproar before Dumbledore called them to order. "You're an Elemental?" At the affirmative nod, he continued, "Which one?" "Actually, all of them. Did you notice that the storm cleared right after I was struck? I had unconsciously absorbed the energy form the lightning and directed it to breaking up the storm. That required control over fire, wind, and water."  
  
Harry stood calmly before them as mutters passed around the table. Then Remus asked, a little put out, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" "I did tell you before. You just don't remember." With a wave of his hand Harry removed part of the block on their memories. *Might as well not tip my hand quite yet* he figured. More of the conversation from that night came rushing back to the Order, and Sirius, after absorbing the information again, irritatedly queried, "Why did you tell us if you were going to block our memories?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't mean to, it was a slight miscalculation on my part. But I decided to keep it that way until circumstances required that you should know."  
  
Dumbledore sighed; it seemed to be habit forming. "Well, that answers several questions. Now, Harry do you know about the foiled Death Eater attacks for the past several months?" Harry nodded. "They began after your return, so we were wondering . . ." "If I had anything to do with them?" It was a statement, not a question. "I know you all have been watching me, following me. Has anyone seen me leave the school grounds in months, or miss a class, or disappear for a little while without someone knowing?"  
  
Everyone had to shake their heads. "But do you know anything about this mysterious Wraith who apparently is behind these attacks?" McGonagall fairly commanded him to tell her something. Harry's face was a blank mask. "So what if I do?" Snape snarled a bit in disgust. "You are being insolent. Tell us who it is if you know." Harry glared back at him. "Why? You can't help them, and revealing their identity will cause more harm than good at this stage."  
  
Dumbledore sighed yet again, this time in defeat. "Very well. But can you at least contact this Wraith? We may have some information that could be useful." "I'll see what I can do," was the neutral response he received. Harry turned to leave, but McGonagall stopped him. "Harry, your powers and knowledge have grown so much. Elemental abilities require a tremendous amount of control. I believe that there is little you can learn here at Hogwarts, and you know it. So why did you come back here?"  
  
"Quidditch," came the glib reply. But at the disbelieving expressions on the faces around him, Harry's blazing green eyes became hooded in dark shadow for a moment. "I have my reasons." With that he left.  
  
Snape shook his greasy head and muttered aloud, "Impertinent powerful little brat." Surprisingly, even Sirius agreed with him.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry stalked down the corridors, thinking furiously while full of energy. The lightning bolt had literally charged him up, and he decided he needed to release some of it with physical action before it tried to escape by magic. That could be disastrous, to say the least. He burst into a run, sprinting so fast the portraits only saw a black blur flash past, heading for one of his secret rooms. He threw open the hidden passage and leapt into the huge room, stripped off his robe and shirt and slapped a hand against a particular stone on the far wall.  
  
Instantly a pulsing drumbeat echoed a fast tempo through the room, and other instruments joined in, the pounding Latin rhythm flowing through his body and giving him focus for his energy. Thank Merlin he had found this music system left behind by Rowena Ravenclaw, and figured out how to add new music to it. The music directed his dance, and he exhilarated in the power and grace, letting loose a joyful laugh.  
  
All too soon for him the music stopped, but he was still so full of energy. He summoned a couple of his favorite swords from his training room and chose a different tune, modifying his movements this time to include sword techniques. He spun and leapt, swinging the blades beneath him, coming within bare centimeters of cutting his feet off. The adrenaline kept surging, amplified by magical energy, and he sped up. As the next song ended, an idea flashed through his brain.  
  
Harry opened his mental connection and called *Eva?* ^Yes? What's up?^ her reply came back instantly. *Is there any way you can join me here? I need a partner.* She laughed delightedly. ^Whoa, you sound a little wired. Be right there.^  
  
A few seconds later a bright flash appeared in the room; it faded to reveal Eva, grinning widely. "You're lucky that I'm nearly as energized as you are. And yes, I did watch your little stunts out on the pitch this afternoon." Harry just grinned to match hers as a swing tune struck up, and he grabbed her hands whirling her into the frantic dance.  
  
After an hour had passed unnoticed, she thought to ask impishly, "So how's the party going up in Gryffindor?" Harry slapped his forehead. "I completely forgot!" "Ooh, the star Seeker ditching out on his own celebration. What a scandal! No worries." With a snap of her fingers Eva conjured the clone and sent it back to the tower with a suitable excuse. Then she turned back to Harry.  
  
"You done dancing?" Nod. "Still high?" Another nod and grin. She smirked. "Good. It's time for the next phase against Voldemort. The search program you developed finally managed to trace the Death Eaters back to his fortress, and the security's a joke. Break in tonight and scout around, snoop in on any conversations, and see what that old snake face is planning next. He's being even more sneaky than usual, so something must be up. Oh, and use a portal for transportation, that's the only mode he can't detect. You try to Apparate in and the alarms'll have you spotted in a second. Don't let yourself be seen. You can mess with their minds later."  
  
Harry summoned his necessary supplies and equipment as she detailed the location and security, and prepared to go. He looked at her sidelong. "If you know this much, why can't you go do this yourself?" She glared at him sternly for a moment. "You know perfectly well. Strictly speaking I'm not allowed to mess with the affairs in your world. The only exception I have is you." He nodded. "One more thing," she clapped his shoulder in a one- armed hug and smiled, "good luck."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
In the middle of a dark corridor in an old castle located in the forests of Albania, a faint shimmer of iridescence flashed once, signaling the use of a transport portal. Too bad nobody was around to see it. Or maybe not. Harry, hidden beneath both his Invisibility cloak and a spell, catfooted his way down the corridor toward a lighted doorway. Harsh voices argued from within, and he paused, listening closely.  
  
"It must be done tonight. MacNair, take anyone you need and lead the raid." "But my lord, why tonight? I would need a few days to plan and set everybody . . ." "No, TONIGHT! Now that that Muggle-loving fool Weasley is Minister he has arranged for the dementors to be removed from Azkaban tomorrow. You must go tonight." "Yes my master." "Oh, and MacNair . . . this is for disagreeing with me. Crucio!"  
  
Screams rang against the stone walls, and Harry winced as his scar burned fiercely. They soon stopped. "Now go and bring back my captured servants." MacNair walked shakily out, and Harry hugged closer to the wall as he and a couple others passed. The cloaked teen was just debating whether to follow or stay when Voldemort spoke again.  
  
"Once the dementors join us, I will be one step closer to defeating our enemies. The rest of you, go and join the raid. You four, stay here in the castle and prepare to receive them. Tonight shall be a fun night!" Footsteps were heard, and Harry remained silent as the Death Eaters paraded by. He was getting ready to leave when he heard Voldemort muttering, and paused to listen once again.  
  
It sounded like an incantation, followed by a whoosh of flames, then an icy coldness so intense it seemed to freeze Harry's insides into Antarctica crept from the room and down the hall. Harry gritted his teeth; he had to see what was happening, so he slunk into the room. He had to physically restrain himself from yelling aloud at what he saw.  
  
Voldemort stood by a bonfire in the center of a large room, a fire of black flames that seemed to suck the light from the room. And in the fire was a head, the most hideous head Harry could never imagine, speaking to the Dark Lord. The chill of sheer evil, raw and powerful, penetrated Harry to the very core, and he shivered uncontrollably as he listened.  
  
"My master, lord of all darkness, tell me. The plans are set in motion and all I need to accomplish your will are the two talismans. But our efforts to find them have been in vain. Please show me where they are hidden, so the ritual can be completed and nothing can stand in our way!" The head spoke in a venomous hiss, "My faithful servant, you will be rewarded for your efforts. I cannot show you where they are- the magic prevents me- but there is something else. I will give you command of my demon armies to use at my bidding. Some know of where one talisman is hidden already. Others can search for the remaining one, the key to the ritual.  
  
However, they cannot touch the talismans themselves. When they are found, you must recover them yourself, and allow no one else to touch them. Only then can their full power be unlocked."  
  
Voldemort bowed. "Thank you my master." He made to leave, but the head called him back. "There is one problem. I have sensed it closing in. Our enemy grows stronger daily." Voldemort growled. "Harry Potter." "He must not find the talismans, or else the light could defeat us. He had hidden the extent of his powers. Remember the prophecy. Only after the talismans are recovered can we destroy the boy."  
  
"I will recover them first, my master. Then it will be my great pleasure to kill him when the time comes." The head appeared pleased. "Now, however, you must go to Azkaban tonight personally to convince the dementors. The idiots you have left need direction, or else they will fail. Go." Voldemort bowed deeply as the head disappeared, and he stalked out the door and followed the route the Death Eaters had taken.  
  
Harry breathed deeply as the chill faded from the air and the black flames died with a hiss. His mind was racing, a million thought competing for his undivided attention, but he knew what he had to do. He conjured up a parchment and quill, scribbled a quick note to the Order while taking care to disguise his handwriting, and transported it to Dumbledore's desk. He also sent his Invisibility cloak back to Hogwarts; it would be unnecessary now.  
  
It was truly impossible to Apparate to Azkaban, even for Harry, and doubtless the Death Eaters would commandeer all the boats to the island. Harry would have to travel by portal again, which took more time since he had to create both gateways and he had never been to Azkaban. But not here. The entire castle reeked of dark magic and that uncanny evil chill. It was beginning to make him sick. Still, he steeled himself and snuck quietly through the castle for another 10 minutes, eavesdropping on the preparations and battle plans, before finally leaving and running into the forest nearby.  
  
Harry contacted Eva and filled her in on the situation. *I don't have enough time to come back to Hogwarts and prepare. It takes too much time to set up the gates, and I want to beat them there. My main problem is the dementors; they still affect me horribly, and my Patronus is rather distinctive. I want to remain unrecognized. Any suggestions?*  
  
^A few. A wandless Patronus can be modified to remain on a person's body like a cloak. It's not nearly as effective usually, it only keeps the worst of the dementor's effects away without physically harming the creature or driving it away. If you do beat them there, try and destroy as many dementors as possible with the regular Patronus. Transport the prisoners to my dimension to be held like we talked about. Oh, and Harry . . . be careful. Something's . . . not right.^  
  
Harry frowned at that, but started working on establishing the portal. Before he could finish, however, he heard a low growl and sensed something through the trees, and he froze, alert and ready. The one shape was quickly joined by another, then another, a few more, until an entire pack circled around him. They were werewolves, dark creatures who had joined with the Dark forces. They paced around, snarling and sniffing, hungry for blood.  
  
Harry swore softly. If he tried to finish the portal here, he could be killed, but if he left he would have to start all over and risk not beating the Death Eaters there. He weighed his chances, quickly counting how many wolves there were and possible escape routes. Before he had quite decided, a large gray wolf suddenly crouched and lunged at him, aiming for his jugular. Harry dodged the snapping jaws and shot a curse at the wolf as it landed, causing it to yelp and dart briefly back into the trees.  
  
A chorus of growls erupted as a least a dozen wolves emerged from the shadows and advanced on him, salivating with a feral gleam in their eyes. Harry could have easily taken them down without breaking a sweat, but that would break his concentration on the portal and causing it to collapse, and ultimately wasting his time. Instead Harry Apparated away, leaving the pack of ravenous werewolves now circling an empty clearing.  
  
Portals work better the closer they are to each other, so Harry chose to appear on a beach in Normandy, France. Why waste energy Apparating to England when Azkaban is equidistant from both coasts? He finally managed to set it up so he could travel to the infamous prison, and stepped through. A heartbeat later he appeared on the steps leading up to the fortress prison. Below him was the dock, empty of boats at the moment and splashed by waves from the storming sea. The air was bitterly cold, the biting wind cutting right through Harry's thick cloak, but it was nowhere near as cold as the very sense of Azkaban, the stench of the dementors thick in the air.  
  
Harry steeled himself and cast his shield Patronus around him, immediately feeling warmer. He then climbed catlike up the slippery steps to the great doors. He could see the guard stationed at the top. He briefly incapacitated him and snuck in, then wiped his memory of the incident. The dementors prowled the corridors, followed by screams and gibbering from the prisoners. Invisible, Harry shot the Patronus charm at close range, destroying three dementors in its initial charge and driving more away.  
  
The first corridor cleared, he began opening cells and transporting the captured Death Eaters away to their new cells in Eva's prison. This corridor seemed to be mainly low level Death Eaters and basic criminals. The Inner Circle members, the ones who would be the most useful to Voldemort, were doubtless deeper in the fortress, under high security. Harry crept deeper into Azkaban, following the dementors' path. He destroyed another five before he sensed that the prison was under attack.  
  
Harry worked faster, not even bothering to open the cells before transporting the captives, then ran down to the next level, shooting his Patronus ahead to dissipate another eight dementors that got in his way. He could hear the voices of the invasion team as they searched the level he had just left, amazed and angry tones echoing as they discovered empty cells. After clearing another level of prisoners, Harry sprinted down the cold and treacherous steps, hoping to at least transport these ones away before the fighting broke out.  
  
Unfortunately, he found over 3 dozen dementors waiting for him in the corridor. Despite his shield he began to feel their effects, and through the muted screaming in his head he could tell that the extra jolt of energy the lightning left was nearly gone. With a wave his staff appeared in his hand; using its greater power, Harry cast another Patronus charm. This time when the stag appeared, it was not silver, nor was it alone.  
  
Three huge animal shapes charged the dementors, all shining a pure molten gold: A stag, a werewolf, and a gigantic dog. Prongs, Moony and Padfoot hit the dark creatures at a run, and they exploded soundlessly into dark wisps of smoke and ash. Harry smiled grimly as he began transferring the prisoners. Before he had gotten more than three cells, however, he heard shouts and footsteps running down the stairs. He shrank against the far wall, thankful he had remained invisible, as several Death Eaters appeared in the hallway.  
  
They cursed to find the first cells empty, but then one opened a door about halfway down. "Hey, there are still some here! Bloody hell, it's Malfoy!" Harry grimaced in defeat as Lucius was freed from his cell; he had hoped that the slippery little maggot was on one of the upper levels and had been taken care of already, but knew that was not very likely.  
  
At that moment Voldemort himself decided to make an appearance, looking twice as ugly yet right at home within the dark stone hall with flickering torches. Harry determined that there was nothing more he could do about the Death Eaters for now, but he could try and finish off the dementors. He levitated himself swiftly and silently down the corridor, past all the Dark idiots and down the stairs. Suddenly he heard Voldemort speaking, calling out to the dark creatures still there, and also sensed the magical summons behind it.  
  
The level Harry currently stood on was simply a large empty room with tall windows overlooking the sea. His wonderings about what the room was for stopped when it began to fill with hooded dementors, seeping in from all directions. As Harry tried to avoid touching them, the Dark Lord appeared and addressed them. "My friends, look at you. Entombed in this miserable prison with nothing more than the slime and dregs to feed on. You are as much prisoners here as those in the cells, and slaves to the Ministry's whim. They are going to remove you from this place in the morning. Why do you put up with it? Join me, and I will give you the means to feed off of the entire world, magic and Muggle alike! Join me and no one can stop us!"  
  
Showing a remarkable talent for timing, shouts and flashes of lights from outside indicated the arrival of the Order of the Phoenix, hopefully with a few Aurors. Voldemort spun, rage contorting his snakelike face. "How in the seven hells did those damned idiots know we were attacking tonight?!" He turned back to the dementors. "What is you decision?" After a moment, the dementors accepted the offer and began to join the battle upstairs, following their Dark Lord. Harry saw his last chance for now and shot off one final Patronus, watching as the three golden figures destroyed at least 2 dozen dementors before they slipped up the stairs.  
  
New screams indicated that the battle was not going well for the Light forces, so Harry dropped his invisibility spell as it was draining too much energy and instead cast his disguising spell to transform him into Wraith, the hunter. His staff channeled and amplified the power, so it was not nearly as exhausting to maintain. Taking a deep breath, he charged back up the stairs, coming up on the Death Eater's flank. The prisoners had already been taken away by Portkey, so now the Dark forces were fighting to keep the Order at bay so they could now escape. Neither side was fighting very effectively due to the presence of the dementors. It seemed the only ones not affected were Voldemort and Harry.  
  
Harry shot several curses in lightning succession at the Death Eaters' backs, then ducked out of sight as a couple came his direction. He popped back out and began casting spells in every direction as the Death Eaters woke to the fact that they were being attacked on two fronts. He dodged the green light of the Killing Curse, and watched helplessly as a Ministry worker was too slow to do the same. Several shouts of "Expecto Patronum!" suddenly rang out, and a multitude of silver objects began to drive the dementors away.  
  
At a command from Voldemort to "Join the others on the mainland!" the dark creatures all turned and jumped out the window. Harry, hoping that they would be smashed against the cliff side or the wave torn rocks below, was briefly startled to see the dementors gliding over the rough seas like ducks on a glassy pond. Luckily, there were only about 100 left now that Harry and the Order had gotten to them.  
  
Despite Harry's participation, the Light forces were driven back up two levels and were holding the last corridor before the exit, where the Portkeys could be activated. Many Death Eaters had been incapacitated, but the Order had some casualties too, with two dead and many injured. Harry had stopped fighting momentarily, trying to sneak in closer to where he could do the most damage.  
  
Thinking quickly, he transformed into a spider and scuttled closer, occasionally using his venomous fangs on a distracted Death Eater, and had nearly reached Voldemort when abruptly two hideous figures appeared at his side. Demons. They bowed and spoke, ignoring the battle raging around them, "My lord, your first talisman is here, in the bowels of this prison. We will show you." "Excellent. Lead the way."  
  
Desperate, knowing demons could Apparate at will anywhere, Harry attached a line of silk to Voldemort's robe and was transported with him. He clung there, hitching an unsuspecting ride as the foul creatures stalked their way deeper and deeper underground, below sea level. This area was once the high security area, but somehow the preservation and guard enchantments had worn off, and environmental conditions began to take their toll quickly, sea water flooding some areas. Instead of emptying the prison so they could be fixed, former Minister Fudge had moved all the prisoners to the upper levels, reasoning that placement was unimportant as the dementors were the best form of security. *Yeah, and the greatest liability* Harry thought sourly.  
  
Finally the demons halted beside an ancient door buried deep beneath the prison, in an area no living creature had seen in centuries. Voldemort hesitated for a brief instant, then yanked open the door and stalked inside. He paused inside, and as the door shut with a resounding bang, Harry jumped off and transformed unnoticed back into human form. Only then did he notice what had captured his enemy's attention so thoroughly.  
  
Hovering in a blood red light in the center of a cavernous room was a pitch- black sphere that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. As they watched, two pits appeared in the otherwise flawless surface, and two rings, like eyes of purple and silver lightning bolts glared balefully back at them. The thing seemed alive with a burning presence, neither good nor evil but waiting, waiting for someone to direct it and claim it. Voldemort finally stepped forward, long pale hand outstretched to claim his prize. Harry tapped him calmly on the shoulder, and when he turned, confused, Harry punched him in the face.  
  
Voldemort stumbled back, blood streaming from his flat nose, and Harry followed through with a sharp kick to the gut, folding him over. Then the teen leapt for the talisman. But Voldemort screamed with rage and pain and snatched Harry's ankle, dragging him to the floor. He landed hard on his chest and Voldemort kicked him in the back of the head, stars erupting before his eyes. Shaking it off, he hooked the Dark Lord's ankle as he passed and dumped him on the floor, then straddled him with both hands around his thin neck, squeezing.  
  
Voldemort's dead-white face began to turn a very unique shade of purple before he managed to wrench a hand from underneath Harry's steel-like leg lock and cast a wandless Burning curse straight at his face. Harry shouted in pain and shock as one side of his face seemed to melt under the intense heat, and Voldemort shoved him off before trying to curse him again. This time Harry avoided it and returned with a curse of his own, melding the flesh of Voldemort's legs together in a way that was more painful yet effective than the Leg-Locker curse. Now it was the Dark Lord's turn to scream.  
  
The two foes continued like this for some time, wrestling and exchanging curses. Both looked rather worse for wear, with blood, bruises and curses clinging to them, yet tried desperately to overpower the other and claim the talisman. They were grappling on the floor, Harry on top, when suddenly Voldemort's hand dipped into his robes and pulled out a wicked-looking knife. With a flash like a striking snake, he plunged it up to the hilt in Harry's side, just between a couple of lower ribs.  
  
The world seemed to go white for a second, then Harry collapsed on the floor, gasping for air as warm sticky blood ran between his clutching fingers and pooled on the stone. He heard Voldemort limping toward the red glow, but could not find the energy to stop him, and could only watch as the pale hands reached out and pulled the black orb free. Voldemort grinned maliciously as he walked over to where Harry lay.  
  
"You fought well, young warrior, but you lost the war. I have this talisman, and you have a poisoned blade in your side. Don't worry, it works fairly quickly, if very painfully. It's a pity we will never know your true identity, but c'et la vie." With a final high, cold laugh, Voldemort limped triumphantly to the door.  
  
Harry was not willing to give up yet; his stubborn Gryffindor side refused to let him. Summoning his rapidly departing strength, he transformed into a gnat and flew to the door, landing on Voldemort's back, just as the door slammed shut again. The demons, sensing urgency, Apparated the Dark Lord and his stowaway right back to the entrance, where the remaining Death Eaters held both the Order off and an escape Portkey for their master. Harry jumped off before they could be transported away, and he transformed back into his human self unseen as Voldemort and the Death Eaters disappeared with the first talisman.  
  
Harry crumpled to the floor, knife embedded in his ribs and sending waves of fire through his battered body. Running footsteps resounded strangely in his ears, followed by a confused babble of sounds as people surrounded him, and Harry distantly noticed that he was still disguised. Good. He felt someone grab his shoulders and cradle him gently, lifting him off the cold stones. He focused his gaze on the person, and gasped out, "Knife . . . poisoned," a blurry glimpse of Sirius' concerned face registering before his eyes rolled back in his head and his senses fled with his consciousness. 


	11. Knives and a Date with Death

Disclaimer: the usual. I also borrowed some Tolkien when I lacked inspiration. Oh, and there are some Biblical references in here. I've twisted some facts for my own purposes. Don't condemn me for it, it is fantasy. Enjoy and review.  
  
A/N: this chapter might get a little confusing at times, since both Harrys show up in the same scene. When this happens, the clone is Harry and the real one is Wraith. Hope it clears up some confusion beforehand. It was a bitch to write, I'll tell you that.  
  
Dedicated to sk8reagle for the wonderful review and compliment. Sorry, less action in this chapter, but some explanations and down time is needed before the real action kicks in. Still, enjoy. Thanks.  
  
Chapter 11  
  
The members of the Order of the Phoenix rounded the corner at a dead sprint, hoping to take out the last lagging Death Eaters. Instead they caught a glimpse of a Portkey usage, and the young wizard who had helped them earlier crumpled on the floor, blood pouring out in torrents. Several people ran forward, while others headed back to alert the rest of the counterforce that they were finished. Clean up was need, as well as a place to put the few Death Eaters they had captured.  
  
Dumbledore got his first good look at the wizard who had alerted him to the break-in tonight, and he suspected, had give the Ministry gift-wrapped Death Eaters for the past several months. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with black hair tied back in a ponytail, sharp features and a small scar cutting diagonally across one cheek. He probably stood around 6 feet tall, with a fairly muscular build and medium brown skin. Right now, though, one side of his face was charred and blistered with burns, one eye was swollen shut, and blood ran from his nose and split lip. A dagger, only the hilt actually visible, protruded from his side, nearly obscured by the blood.  
  
Sirius knelt next to him and he stirred slightly. The former convict picked him up gently, trying not to aggravate the stab wound, when suddenly the injured man choked out in a faint voice, "Knife . . . poisoned," before falling completely limp.  
  
These two words set everybody into action. Remus had Sirius put the man back on the floor and yanked the dagger out with an almighty wrench. Arabella stripped off her outer cloak and ripped it in two, using one half to staunch the wound and the other to tie it in place as a temporary bandage. Snape took the bloodied knife from Remus and began the process of deciphering what sort of poison was used, in order to brew the antidote. Charlie Weasley conjured a stretcher and floated their injured comrade onto it, while Dumbledore sent a quick message to Madame Pomfrey as to what to expect when they arrived.  
  
While perhaps they should take the man to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore wanted to know who this mysterious young man was, and the fact that he had called the Order rather than the Ministry intrigued him. Few people outside the Order and Law Enforcement even knew it existed. He also knew he needed to be protected. No place was safer than Hogwarts, and Madame Pomfrey would take excellent care of him. The problem was getting there. The anti-Apparation wards extended for over a mile around the island, and only preset Portkeys could work here, and only in one area. The same wards were applied for Hogwarts. It would be a race against time.  
  
Dumbledore and Sirius led the stretcher at a run down to the docks, where they had arrived by broomstick. Lashing up a quick framework to hold the stretcher steady between two brooms, they mounted up and flew off, with Snape and Charlie trailing them closely. The others would return by boat or broom, then Apparate to Hogsmeade. As soon as the flying ambulance crossed the barriers, they Apparated to the edge of the Hogwarts barrier and flew straight to the windows of the hospital wing.  
  
The nurse was ready for them and immediately transferred the patient to a clean bed to begin inspecting him. Sirius was recruited to be her go-fer, and ran back and forth between the bed and her supply cabinet as she demanded. The white sheets slowly turned red with blood despite her best efforts, and emptied potions bottles littered the floor, making Sirius' running around very treacherous.  
  
Snape abruptly flew in, startling Pomfrey so she began cussing eloquently at him in several different medically impossible terms. He interrupted her tirade. "I know that poison. It's a specialized Dark toxin that breaks down all blood vessels so the victim bleeds to death slowly and painfully. It takes about 30 minutes to kill, so we don't have much time. Do you store an herb known as kingsfoil?" Pomfrey shook her head in bewilderment and slight panic. "Never heard of it before."  
  
Now Snape swore. "I can simulate the effect with a potion, but it takes over an hour to brew. There's not enough time." Dumbledore said calmly, "Go ahead and do it Severus. Even if he doesn't survive long enough to use it, someone else might later." Snape glanced at him briefly, and then all but ran down to his dungeon. For a while there was silence, apart from Pomfrey's usual mutterings as she worked. Charlie stood by Dumbledore, watching and waiting, and slowly the remaining Order members drifted in as they finished up at Azkaban and the Ministry.  
  
As more time passed, more bruises blossomed on Wraith's skin, his nose began bleeding again as well as his gums and eyes, and the clotting stab wound opened again. He was losing far too much blood, and the symptoms were overwhelming Madame Pomfrey's expertise. Suddenly a rush of wings flew by Dumbledore's head, and Fawkes the phoenix landed on the bed, ignoring the blood and Pomfrey's irritation. As they continued to gaze silently on, the bird laid his magnificent head on the wound in the patient's side and thick pearly tears lowed onto it, flashing in the candlelight.  
  
But Pomfrey noticed something strange happening. The man's body did not quit bleeding, but instead seemed to absorb the tears into itself. He appeared to glow with an inner light briefly, and the bleeding slowed, then stopped almost entirely. He still lay pale and unresponsive, but alive. Pomfrey checked the time; it had been over 45 minutes since the Order had brought him in. Maybe, just maybe he would survive this, but all she could do for him now was make sure he was comfortable.  
  
Minutes dragged by like hours, and the young man remained unchanged, neither worsening nor waking. Finally Snape stalked back into the room in a hurry, clutching a bottle in his hand. He was very surprised to see that the patient was still alive, but also relieved. He inquired "Can you wake him?" "Yes, but he'd be in so much pain I can't guarantee anything." "Do it." With her wand pointed at her patient's chest, Madame Pomfrey uttered a few choice words.  
  
Suddenly the young man stirred and moaned, his eyes flickering open. The irises were a startling blue-green, but the normally white sclera was a crimson mass of broken blood vessels, granting his eyes a hideous cast. Unperturbed, Madame Pomfrey leaned in and asked quietly, "Can you hear me?" He nodded faintly. "Good. We need you to drink this potion to counteract the poison."  
  
She supported his shoulders as he sat up a bit, and Snape handed him the bottle. The man looked at it and recognition flickered in his eyes. His free hand groped at the pouched on his belt and pulled out a vial full of a clear liquid. With one hand he unstoppered it and poured it into the bottle, and the potion hissed before turning a red-gold color. His gaze briefly met those of the Order members watching him, and he gave a small grin, raised the glass as a toast and said "L'Chaim!" before he downed the entire thing and fell immediately into a deep sleep.  
  
Snape, a little indignant that someone dared to mess with one of his potions, snatched up the empty vial and bottle from the bed and peered intently at them, looking for traces of whatever the young man had added. Unfortunately for him, no residue was left on either container for him to test. He glared at the slumbering figure for a moment, then turned away. For a second there was silence, and then Percy asked "What does L'Chaim mean?" The professors looked clueless, but an Auror answered him. "It's a traditional Jewish toast meaning 'to life,'" she explained exhaustedly.  
  
Madame Pomfrey turned to them, having determined that her patient would live until morning, and exclaimed, "All right, now let me see what damage you all have sustained." A chorus of grumbling answered her, but she refused to let anyone leave until all the combatants had been checked out and fed a bar of chocolate. In the midst of all the bandaging and mending, Dumbledore announce, "Owing to the lateness of the hour and everyone's fatigue, I insist you all stay here for the night. Guest rooms are being prepared, and we will meet in the morning after breakfast. Good night."  
  
With that, the headmaster and professors left the hospital wing. The more seriously injured adults remained there under Madame Pomfrey's care, while the others were guided to their rooms by the house elves. Soon exhaustion claimed them all.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The next morning, the whole of Gryffindor House came down to breakfast extremely late, looking tired but triumphant. The Slytherins were surly and irritable, having been the focus of many outpourings of excess jubilant energy in the form of pranks. The Ravenclaws were not too happy either, but they had a good reason. The Gryffindor team was being congratulated still and they were nothing short of ecstatic. But the professors noticed one exception: Harry Potter.  
  
The star Seeker seemed quiet and pensive, ignoring the celebratory atmosphere around him and picking at his food without eating a bite. He had not acted this way since the end of last year, after Voldemort's rebirth. Ron and Hermione had also noticed their friend's behavior and kept sneaking glances at him, concerned. He obviously was not telling them something. Last night he had returned to the party after a meeting with Dumbledore in high spirits and spent most of the time laughing, joking and telling stories. Something had happened overnight, but what did he know?  
  
Abruptly Harry stood and walked out of the Great Hall, oblivious to the sudden drop in volume as Hogwarts observed its Quidditch hero depart. Gradually conversations resumed, but now everyone felt a little subdued and the celebration fell a little flat. The professors present know something was wrong. Did Harry know about last night's attack, or the young man now sleeping in the hospital wing?  
  
They would have to wonder later, for now it was time for the Order to debrief. Dumbledore had invited all the professors to attend and several chairs had been added around the marble table in the phoenix chamber when they arrived. The meeting began, and the headmaster gave brief introductions, then described the note that had appeared and its contents. Others explained the fight for Azkaban and Voldemort's alliance with the dementors, as well as the escaped prisoners. Finally Dumbledore told of the young man who had fought against the Death Eaters and was currently lying in the hospital wing.  
  
Professor Flitwick spoke up. "I think Harry Potter knows something. He was out of sorts at breakfast and left early without eating. I haven't seen that sort of behavior out of him since last year, after the Third Task." There was a momentary silence; the Dumbledore summoned a house elf. "Find Harry Potter and bring him here, please." The little creature was off with a "snap!" and the discussion turned to the dementor threat. Suddenly Sirius broke in with "But how many dementors actually joined? Azkaban houses almost 200, but I didn't see nearly that many leaving when Voldemort ordered them out."  
  
Theories and questions arose, but they were all interrupted by the house elf returning with Harry in tow. He seemed distracted and distant, not all there mentally, and barely acknowledged the others in the room. Dumbledore asked gently, trying to snap him out of it, "Harry, do you know about the attack last night?" "At Azkaban? Yeah." "How?"  
  
"I had a . . . dream, a vision . . . but it was clearer, more real than anything I've ever seen. And not only the attack, but beforehand." Agitated, Harry paced the room. "The problem is some parts are blacked out. I can't remember them, and I've tried, but spells don't work. I can feel it's something important." Sirius tried to calm him. "Can you describe what you do remember?" Harry nodded and his eyes glazed over.  
  
"A dark corridor made of ancient stone. Death Eaters leaving, carrying out Voldemort's orders for the raid. A dreadful cold, cutting right to the bone. Voldemort was speaking to a head floating in the black flames, something unspeakably evil . . . his master. I can't understand their words. Then Azkaban, someone sneaking in the prison before the Death Eaters, transporting the prisoners away. A golden light destroying scores of dementors, more fleeing. Voldemort showed up, the dementors joined him even as the Aurors arrived.  
  
Fighting through the corridors, trying to escape. Two creatures appeared, demons, they spoke of a talisman and took Voldemort deep underground, beneath the prison. A black orb in crimson light, with purple eyes. I remember a fight, Voldemort wrestling with someone to get the talisman. He pulled a knife and stabbed the man. I can see everything crystal clear except for his face; I can't make out the face. The blade was poisoned. Voldemort used the demons to get back to his Death Eaters, the man went with them without being noticed. Voldemort escaped by Portkey, the demons vanished, the man collapsed. That's all I can remember." He rubbed his forehead, particularly the scar as he paced. "No, wait, I remember a sound. Something familiar." He frowned in concentration. "A voice, female, and . . . phoenix song."  
  
The members of the Order of the Phoenix glanced at each other. "Well Harry, it appeared that you may know more than we do. We have a guest down in the hospital wing that I believe you need to meet." Dumbledore led the entire group to the infirmary, only to find their mystery man wide awake and eating while Madame Pomfrey fussed over him. She seem flustered and started to tell, well whine actually, to the headmaster when he walked in. "I just don't understand it. Yesterday he was supposed to be dead, even the phoenix tears barely kept him alive until the potion was ready. Today he's completely healed! But he's infuriating! Refuses to give me a name, or what he put in the potion, or even how old he is. Says he only wants to speak with you."  
  
Dumbledore held up his hands in a placating gesture. "All right, calm yourself. I'll speak with him." She stalked off grumbling as he approached the bed. "Good morning," he began, but then the stranger's eyes fixed on Harry, standing right behind the headmaster. They stared at each other for long moments as if silently communicating, then Harry smiled and sat down on the bed.  
  
"So how was the wrestling match?" The other chuckled. "I was kicking his arse until he pulled that knife. I didn't have enough time to grab my own weapons beforehand, so I settled for bashing his ugly face in. He fights dirty too," Wraith added with an ironic smile. Now Harry laughed. "What did you expect? An invitation to tea at the Riddle House?" "Only if it's our heads being served with the scones." "Speaking of that . . ."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
*This is unbelievably strange* Harry decided idly as he sat disguised on his bed, chatting with himself. Or rather, his clone. At any other time he probably would have been laughing his head off, and knew that Eva was by now. But he knew that misdirection at this point would help him in his campaign, so he'd save the joke for later. He mentally shrugged. *At this point I'm a good candidate for the mental wards.*  
  
Suddenly Remus broke in to the monologue/dialogue. "How is it you two know each other?" Harry fought the urge to smirk as he glanced at his clone. "A mutual friend introduced us last fall, and we've kept in touch. Harry here has actually helped me out in a few tight spots." *Yeah, like when ditching class and sneaking out to hunt Death Eaters.* Dumbledore just shook his gray head. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Who are you?"  
  
Harry smirked to himself but answered, "I have many names, but you may call me Wraith." "How did you know about the raid last night?" "I was snooping around old Voldie's fortress and overheard them. So I broke into Azkaban before they did and took most of the prisoners out to a protected area of my own, and killed over 60 dementors before the Death Eaters showed up. When you engaged them, I kept them busy on their flank until those demons came for Voldemort."  
  
McGonagall interrupted, "Harry told us all of that, but what does that . . . talisman have to do with anything? Why did the Dark Lord want it?" Harry frowned. "I wish I knew. His master spoke of a ritual involving two talismans. The demons knew where the one was, but they are still searching for the second. I don't even know what exactly they're looking for, but I have to keep Voldemort from getting it." He sighed.  
  
Snape changed the subject with an irritated sneer. "What did you add to my potion?" The disguised teen noted his irritation and was purposefully vague. "A mixture of my own. It can be added to any potion to speed up and enhance the effects, among other things." He grinned even as the Potions Master scowled. "By the way, who has that knife?" Snape pulled it out, a nasty expression still on his face, and threw it to Harry who caught it easily.  
  
"Wraith" examined it closely. It had a razor sharp silver blade set in an ebony hilt, with tracings in an obscure script etched into both. He flipped it from hand to hand, testing the balance, then tossed it high in the air and caught it again. This display was making the professors nervous, but the clone simply watched, smirking knowingly. Wraith arched an eyebrow, the Harry double inclined his head in a barely perceptible nod, and their game began.  
  
Wraith twirled the knife expertly as Harry stood up and casually walked to the opposite side of the room, then he threw it at him with a flick of his wrist. Harry caught it by the hilt and smoothly spun it around his arm, tossed it up to catch it behind his back, and hurled it back to Wraith, who let it come within inches of his face before seizing it out of the air. The females in the room all gasped, horrified, but the males for the most part watched carefully.  
  
Wraith played a little with the poisoned blade before returning it to Harry to show off with. This time however, when Harry threw it back he included two of his own knives pulled from his wrist sheaths. Wraith caught two, spun one into the air as he snatched up the third and began juggling them. When he flung these across the room, he picked up the glass from the bedside table, transfigured it into a hunting knife just to make it harder and chucked it at Harry, all within the space of a heartbeat. Harry caught all four easily and juggled them, adding a few under the leg throws before gathering two in each hand and flinging them with all his considerable strength at Wraith's face, then pulled out two more boot knives and added them to the mix.  
  
Wraith leaped up onto the bed and bounced, with a little help of some wandless magic, did a mid-air flip as he caught two, lobbed them into the air, grabbed the next two and bounced them off the mattress hilt-first, and snatched the last two right in front of his nose. He used the momentum to toss them back as the other two pairs of knives returned to his skilled hands.  
  
The two Harrys juggled the blades back and forth, setting up a smooth rhythm between them as the knives flashed across the room in a deadly dance. Any skilled circus juggler team would be envious of their partnership, which was easily explained by the fact that they shared the same mind. They ignored Madame Pomfrey's protests and the professors' mutterings. Then the doors of the hospital wing flew open and Ron entered with Hermione, looking for Harry. They stopped dead in their tracks and gaped open-mouthed at their friend, who was playing with deadly weapons with a complete stranger in school.  
  
Both Harrys noticed this intrusion and decided to wrap things up. They each grabbed three blades out of the air, spun, and threw them at the same time. The knives embedded themselves in the wood floor in an alternating pattern, perfectly spaced and in a straight line. The Harrys looked at each other, grinned and briefly bowed, and then began to gather up their toys, trying desperately not to laugh.  
  
Professor McGonagall was the first to find her voice. "Just what the bloody hell did you two think you were doing?" She only cursed when she was extremely upset. Wraith smiled at the assembled group of elders. "Just checking if Harry here had kept up on his training." Harry also grinned. "Just making sure Wraith here was completely recovered." Sirius rolled his eyes and snorted. "You're going to give me gray hairs, kid."  
  
*You have no idea.*  
  
Madame Pomfrey nearly shrieked at them, "You two, are you trying to kill yourselves?! Did it conveniently slip your minds that one of those blades is poisoned with a deadly toxin?!" Wraith interrupted, "Well, actually, more than one." "WHAT?!" Pomfrey looked like she was about to have a stroke. He glanced over at Harry, who tried not to smile as he told her, "Two of mine were also."  
  
"With what, pray tell?" "Well, this one," he held up one of his boot knives, "has a Firebrand potion, and this one," this time one from the wrist sheath, "a little bit of an exotic concoction made with poison from a South American dart frog. Both fairly lethal." Wraith continued in a conversational manner, "So we actually had three poisoned and three regular blades. Oh, I bet you want your glass back." He picked up the transfigured knife and changed it back with a "pop," then tossed it to the furious nurse who slammed it back down on the bedside table.  
  
Ron and Hermione were still staring stupidly, so Harry walked over and introduced them. "This is my friend Wraith. He's been part of my training since last fall, and was involved in a skirmish last night at Azkaban. I believe you know about Ron and Hermione." The disguised Harry nodded at them politely, but inside he nearly broke his ribs to keep from laughing hysterically. This was just too much, himself introducing himself to his two best friends. Not even the Marauders could have pulled off something this twisted. He would need to talk with the two teens later.  
  
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, with the Order questioning Wraith about his various activities. He purposely left a few things vague that had the potential of leading them to his true identity, and noticed that the double Harry followed his lead. In the end, he agreed to pass on any relevant information he heard to the Order, but refused to relinquish the prisoners he had taken from Azkaban. "They're safer where they are for now. Once Voldemort is defeated and Azkaban retaken, you can have them back, not before."  
  
Dumbledore finally called an end to the gathering and invited Wraith to stay another night at Hogwarts, but he refused. "I have other things I must attend to, so I'll be leaving tonight. That is, if Madame Pomfrey will let me go." He flashed her a smile he knew to be both charming and infuriating, and her return glare clearly told him to get out of her sight as her patience was at an end. A few people chuckled, especially Sirius and Remus who knew the nurse's temper after years of experience. With that, the Order members left, most heading down to Hogsmeade to Apparate home while the professors went back to their quarters.  
  
Wraith left with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they headed back toward the Gryffindor Tower. However, as they passed a portrait of a reclining lion, Wraith reached out and touched it in a certain place, then grabbed Ron's arm and tugged him inside the tunnel now revealed. Hermione had been holding Ron's other hand and was pulled along with him, and the clone Harry brought up the rear, closing the portrait behind him. They came to a room where the torches sprang to life at their arrival, revealing a very comfortably furnished lounge with a fireplace.  
  
Wraith dropped Ron's arm and his disguise simultaneously, eliciting a number of stammers and wide-eyed looks of astonishment as both his friends stared back and forth between the identical "twins." At that point Harry could no longer contain himself and burst out laughing so hard tears leaked out his eyes. He tried to collapse on the couch, but missed and hit the floor, still gasping for breath between giggles. Hermione finally managed to speak. "Wha . . . what's going on?"  
  
"Oh, come on Mione, you've met my clone before. You just didn't know it." Harry continued chuckling. A light of understanding appeared in her and Ron's eyes, and she nodded slowly as many things clicked. "Let's make this a little less confusing." Harry recalled the clone to him, and the two bodies fused into one, transferring and integrating memories. As soon as there was only one Harry once again, Ron spoke. "Wraith? Is that the best name you could come up with?" Harry shrugged. "Seemed appropriate to me. Don't you think so?" "Why didn't you tell them who you really were?" Hermione interjected.  
  
"Think about it. If they knew, they'd ask a lot of questions I'm not ready to answer yet. I prefer keeping information limited to the three of us. They'd find out about the clone, all of my abilities, my contact with Eva, all of it. They'd overestimate me, even more than they do now. As it is, I like to keep a few surprises in store for Voldemort when we meet again. Plus I'm keeping you guys safe for now. He doesn't know I'm behind the losses he's taken."  
  
He sighed. "Besides, you know how Remus and Sirius are. Imagine how much they'd freak out if they knew it was me who was at Azkaban and almost died last night." "WHAT?!" Harry winced; he had not meant to tell them that. Oh well. He recounted everything that happened last night, starting when he was called to Dumbledore's office. When he finished his tale, both his friends stared at him in astonishment and concern. Ron shook his head.  
  
"Whoa Harry, this is wicked. How many Death Eaters did they spring?" "Near as I can tell, almost two dozen high ranking ones, including Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail." All three teen scowled. "Over 100 dementors survived to join Voldemort too." Harry sighed again. "We hurt him, but not nearly bad enough. And frankly, I'm worried."  
  
Now Ron and Hermione were scared. Harry was their rock; he was not supposed to be scared of anything. "Whatever that head was, it clearly has an alliance with Voldemort. They can command the ancient demon armies and possess such a great power. I could feel it, a tremendous . . ." he waved a hand helplessly in the air, searching for the right word, "evil is the only way to describe it. This war is going to be harder and bloodier than I ever expected."  
  
All three silently contemplated the dancing flames in the hearth, considering the words Harry had spoken. Ron stirred. "What are you going to do for the summer? Are you moving in with Sirius?" Harry shook his head. "I can't. He wants me to, but I can't." "Why not? Dumbledore approved it. And where else can you go?" "The Order of the Phoenix uses his house as a base of operations for some missions and intelligence gathering. If I lived there, I'd not only be under constant surveillance but also place all of them in danger. Well, more than they voluntarily put themselves in already. Plus it's a little too well known, thanks to the trial. As for where I'm going, I've already made my own arrangements. No one will be able to find me, and it's perfect for what I need to do."  
  
Hermione looked pained. "When you said no one, does that include owl post?" Harry nodded. "But then how will we be able to contact you?" "I've taken care of that. I'll explain later." "We won't be able to see you all summer, will we?" "That's still up in the air. We'll see what the circumstances are. Oh, and just to be safe, I've increased the protection on your houses, so you don't have to worry about Death Eaters in your backyards. Still have to worry about tax collectors though." It was a very lame attempt at humor, but it was enough to break the solemn mood. After a few minutes of idle chatter, they headed back to Gryffindor Tower.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Thankfully, there were no more Death Eater attacks for the rest of the school year, so Harry was able to concentrate on his OWLs, although it was only Potions he actually needed to study for. Even with that his increased mental faculties and innate understanding with how nature and magic interact made it much easier than it ever had been. He spent much of his time helping Ron and Hermione study or researching what could be found on demons and their abilities. Just the memory of that head Voldemort had summoned was enough to chill him to the bone.  
  
The fifth years spent two full days on the OWL exams, both written and practical. Harry found them all ridiculously easy, and was the first one finished on each exam. The rest did not share his sentiments; even Hermione emerged from the last one (Transfiguration) looking pale and wrung out. But it was over, and they had a full week of school left before summer. The trio spent the majority of the spare time relaxing down by the lake, playing Gobstones or just talking. Ron and Harry still did their morning workout together, but lengthened it in the absence of classes. Harry was giving Ron tips on how to continue with his training over the summer, while Hermione looked interested yet amused.  
  
One day Harry received a summons to Dumbledore's office. He figured it would be a discussion of his summer arrangements, and when he reached the circular room he knew he was right. Sirius and Arthur Weasley were both there with the headmaster, chatting animatedly. "Ah Harry, good of you to join us. Have a seat." Harry plunked himself down in a seat by the fireplace, resting his forearms on his thighs.  
  
"Now, we have been discussing where you are to stay over the summer, as you certainly cannot return to the Dursleys. While there is a risk, we believe that you can move in with Sirius, then stay with the Weasleys for the last two weeks of the summer." Sirius leaned forward smiling. "Now that I've got a house, or rather a mansion, there's plenty of room, you can move in immediately. We can finally be a family. Remus is living there too," he added. "Three eligible and handsome bachelors in the ultimate bachelor pad. It'll be great!"  
  
Sirius' enthusiasm was infectious, and Harry grinned, but it was a sad grin, a bit regretful. "I'm sorry Sirius, but I can't." "What? What do you mean you can't?" Sirius looked floored. "Where else can you go?" Harry sighed. "I want to live with you, I really do. It would be great to finally have a real family. But like you said, there is a risk, probably greater than you realize." He got up and paced to the window. "You know as well as I that Voldemort is obsessed with killing me. He will destroy anyone who gets in his way. I can't risk placing you in that kind of danger, and I won't allow myself to be trapped that easily."  
  
Sirius opened his mouth, but Harry continued. "Your place is too obvious, too well known and well trafficked. I know that the Order uses it as a staging area- don't ask how," he warned, seeing the look on their faces. "This summer will be a crucial time in this war. You can't afford to babysit me, which is what you will want to do. And I don't need to be watched after. I've spoken to Wraith and I've made arrangements to go into hiding. No one will be able to find me. I know what I'm doing." Sirius looked wildly at Dumbledore. "Albus . . ."  
  
"Harry's right." Both Sirius and Harry were surprised. "He will be safer out of the public eye, and out of the way of the Order. No offense Harry, but you do tend to attract attention and trouble. Are you sure no one will be able to find you?" "Positive. I've tested it. Not even the owl post can find it, let alone Death Eaters. Oh, and I have something for all of you." Harry produced three sheets of parchment.  
  
"These are instant messengers, similar to Muggle computers. Just write the name of the person you want to write to, then the message, and tap it as you say 'send.' When your parchment receives a message, it glows blue until you tap it and say 'receive,' and the note will appear. It's untraceable and fast. I'm also giving one to Ron, Hermione, and Remus. I can make more, but it'll take a little time."  
  
Dumbledore appeared impressed, while Sirius and Arthur were fascinated. "How did you make these?" Harry only gave a secretive smile. "The library can be your friend."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
All too soon, the students of Hogwarts were packed, stuffed full from the Leaving Feast, and on the Hogwarts Express heading back to King's Cross station. Fred and George hid their sadness about this being their last trip by testing every single one of their Weasley Wizard Wheezes on any student, particularly Slytherins that happened to come across them. Harry presented his friends with their IM parchments and explained how to use them. He also decided to give one to Ginny on the spur of the moment, following an inexplicable intuition, and promised to keep them updated on anything important.  
  
They played several games of Exploding Snap and laughed at the twins' antics. When the train pulled into London, everybody changed back to Muggle clothes and disembarked, passing through the gate back into Muggle London. Their families were waiting there for them.  
  
"Bye Harry. Be safe," Hermione said and gave him a kiss on the cheek, before kissing Ron goodbye and joining her parents. The crowd of Weasleys was very visible among the masses of Muggles due to their red hair, and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry an extra hug, her worry for him evident. "Don't take too many chances this summer, dear. Will you be coming to the Burrow later?" "I hope so. Don't worry, I'll let you know." He gave her a reassuring smile, shared a handshake with Mr. Weasley, then threw a thumbs- up to Ron as they walked away.  
  
He waited until the family had driven away in the Ministry limo before shrinking his belongings and pocketing them, then Apparated to his new house. Harry unpacked quickly and surveyed his room, then the entire house. Everything was perfect for his plans. He decided to relax a bit before going to bed, so he transfigured his clothes into swimming trunks, walked outside to the pool and dove in. As he swam, he was very grateful for the charm that kept the area around his house in a perpetual state of summer. The real weather outside was rather chilly and damp. He loved swimming, the sense of the water flowing, supporting his body even as he fought his way through it.  
  
He finally emerged, dripping puddles that vanished as if soaked up by and invisible sponge, to find his IM parchment flashing blue. He grinned and shook his head as he received the messages. It seemed like every person who had one had sent him a message, either just testing it or worrying about his safety. Apparently the "Harry" hand on the Weasley clock was just spinning endlessly again, same as it had when he had disappeared last summer. Harry wrote back saying he was fine and suggesting that they put a new destination on the clock: You Don't Want To Know. After answering all the inquiries, he climbed the stairs back up to his room, quickly changed into pajamas and collapsed on the bed, falling immediately into a deep sleep.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Nightmares were a given if you were Harry Potter. Every night since returning to his dimension, he had had at least one per night, but usually several. If it was not memories of the Third Task and the graveyard, then it was any selection of his encounters with Voldemort from years before. Then there were the visions, as his connection with the Dark Lord gave him a ringside seat to torture and murder. These had died down a bit since the Light Mark was first cast into the sky, but now they returned in full force. The only difference for Harry was that now he had devised a spell to let him record the dream and go back to sleep after he woke up yelling. That way he would not become psychotic from sleep deprivation. That was the last thing anybody needed.  
  
About a week into the summer, the dreams changed. Harry was standing at the edge of a large ancient city, but by looking at it, one could not have guessed that it was older than Man. Harry could sense it, however; the age and wisdom that it was imbibed in, the magical wave that emanated from it, making the very air throb and his skin tingle. He waited, and soon a person appeared before him.  
  
She was tall, thin, and possessed of an unearthly beauty that made his breath catch in his throat. Her hair gleamed silver, the same shade as her eyes and the trim on her black robes. For all her indescribable beauty, something about her warned Harry that there was something ancient and powerful about this woman; something deadly. This was confirmed when she introduced herself.  
  
"Greetings young phoenix. I am Lady Death." Harry's eyes threatened to pop out of his head. "Do not look so frightened, I am not here on my usual business." A small inaudible sigh of relief escaped his lips, and he even felt bold enough to say, "I've always thought Death was an old man with a scythe and hourglass." "I am sometimes portrayed that way, as I have taken that form at times to accomplish my goals. But that is beside the point."  
  
"In only a year you have grown and accomplished so much. Yet you hide so much of it from normal eyes. Why?" Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I just don't like all the attention. That's why I created Wraith, so people wouldn't know it was me. And being underestimated can be useful in a war." Death actually chuckled. "Yes. Wraith; an apt name for your work. You have done a fine job handling the powers you possess and using them properly. Yet for all your abilities, circumstances have changed. You are no match for Voldemort now."  
  
Harry felt the blood drain from his face and he stammered, "Wh . . what? Why not?" Death looked rather grim. "He has entered into an alliance with the Prince of Darkness, Lucifer himself. The talismans he is collecting are essential for a ritual that would allow Lucifer to possess Voldemort entirely, transferring every ounce of his power into the human shell and granting immortality. When that happens, no one will be able to stop him, not even you. Darkness will overshadow the earth and enslave humanity for all time, magic and Muggle alike."  
  
Harry felt sick and cold. "So after everything I've done, all that I've sacrificed and sweated for, there's nothing I can do?" "I did not say that," Death admonished him. "You have to find the second talisman. If you get it and destroy it, the ritual cannot take place and Voldemort will remain as he is, powerful but mortal. Then you will be able to destroy him." Harry nodded with determination shining in his eyes. "Where is the talisman?"  
  
Death sighed softly. "I do not know. The two were created for an ancient purpose, long since forgotten. A disaster occurred and this city was banished to this place, destroyed in your world and curse because of these objects. They were separated and hidden on opposite sides of the world, hoping they would never be found again. This happened long before the founders ever conceived the idea of Hogwarts, before humans ever discovered the existence of magic. Any living memory has long since been erased by the winds of time. The only records remaining of their existence reside in two places. One the demons are currently searching for, an ancient library buried in your world. But the other is untouched in my realm, sealed from everybody but the One worthy to find the ancient relics."  
  
Harry looked skeptical and slightly irritated. *Not another one. Why does this always happen to me? Let someone else save the world for once.* "You think that the One is me?" he asked, traces of his emotions creeping into his cold tone. Death nodded solemnly. "You can only enter this realm through dreams. So while you are here, you must search the archives for the location of the talisman. We have little time left here together. I will explain more at another time, and you will begin your search tomorrow." She turned and started to disappear into the city. "Wait! How do you know I am the One?" Harry called after her, but it was too late.  
  
She vanished and a moment later he felt himself flying upwards, then back in his own bed he sat up abruptly with a gasp, sweat pouring off of him. He jumped up and staggered into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he noticed he looked like death; the phrase stirred his memory. He concentrated on remembering the dream, but it slipped away just like the water through his fingers, details flowing away as he focused on them. He hung his head as he leaned on the sink and muttered, "Damn." 


	12. Traps and Talisman

A/N: Okay, hope you noticed that I changed the summary and the rating. This fic will extend through Harry's 6th year and . . . well, that would be telling, wouldn't it? *evil grin* I'm nowhere near done yet! Harry still has a long journey ahead of him, with his friends along for one hell of a ride. Anyway, I decided to go ahead and change the rating from PG-13 to R. Nothing really bad yet, but the reason for the rating change will become apparent in the later chapters. Most of the fic can still be considered PG- 13, and I'll warn you beforehand of the questionable chapters. You're probably going to hate me by the time I'm done with this or more likely even before I'm done. Just giving you a proper warning now. *shrugs and ducks multiple flying objects from irate reviewers*  
  
Watch out: more symbolism coming your way. Ignore it if you want, but if you're a geek like me you'll analyze it thoroughly and realize that I'm sending you a subliminal message in my writing. Some might be spoilers for later chapters. And Harry likes to pass out a lot in this fic. I'm sorry, that's just the way it plays out. I'll try to keep him conscious longer.  
  
Disclaimer: the usual. You recognize it, I had no part in its creation. I just play with it. Thanks to ruskbyte for some inspiration. If you've read his fics, you know what I'm talking about.  
  
[_] means Parseltongue.  
  
Chapter 12  
  
The first month of summer passed in a blur for Harry, between communicating with his friends and countering Voldemort's attacks, which now included the demon armies. His nights were filled with dream visions of research in the ancient archives of the Guardians, pouring over old scroll, parchments, and tomes which translated themselves as he read. They held tons of information on the ancient world, which was actually very fascinating. Hermione would kill to be allowed in this room. But there was one thing about this that bothered him.  
  
Several times Harry came across references to a prophecy, an ancient one that the Guardians apparently held in great respect and fear. But after mentioning it, the author would change the subject. It was clear that whatever this prophecy said, it was essential to Harry's fight against darkness, but he could not find the actual words anywhere. Almost if they were afraid of mentioning it more than in passing.  
  
Harry slammed a thick tome down in frustration, sending up clouds of dust from the old wooden table littered with parchment. Not only was the search seemingly impossible, Lady Death had not spoken to him since their initial meeting. Add that to the fact that he could never recall his dreams once he woke up, despite all his best efforts, and one could understand why he was royally pissed.  
  
The battles in the real world were not going well either. Harry had now become an expert on healing charms and potions due to the sheer number of casualties each attack produced. Since the inclusion of the demons in the attacks, many more were dying horrible deaths. Normal wizards could not withstand the demons: they were immune to most spells, tougher than dragons, insanely fast, and completely bloodthirsty. Harry had trouble with them as it was, even with his staff and enhanced powers. The Order was always present at these skirmishes, usually arriving just before the main force of Aurors, but long after Harry aka Wraith. He was still able to sneak into Voldemort's fortress, but it was getting too risky. The demons seemed to sense his presence and would alert their master. Twice now Harry had almost been caught in the castle and had to escape before they could launch a full scale search. He was working on how to correct the problem.  
  
Harry received a copy of the Daily Prophet every day at breakfast, so he was able to keep an eye on normal wizarding news. Unfortunately for him, a novice reporter looking to make a name for herself in Rita Skeeter's continued absence had published a piece just a few days before his birthday, stating that Harry had disappeared again and was presumed dead at the hands of Voldemort.  
  
The next day the editorial section was filled with angry letters form his friends saying Harry was perfectly fine, they were in contact with him, and to quit bothering him. Harry himself wrote a deliciously nasty letter reiterating their statements, commenting that true journalists with a shred of decency check veracity before printing such an inflammatory report. Much to his chagrin the letter was reprinted on the front page the very next day, under the banner headline "HARRY POTTER DENIES REPORT OF HIS DEATH." That night his IMP was full of messages from people congratulating him. He just shook his head.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry was in the middle of sorting through a bunch of scrolls, looking for one that he had not already read through, when he felt his arm burn softly. He groaned and rolled his eyes. *Not again.* The research he was attempting to do was made extra frustrating by the fact that nearly every night he was interrupted and pulled back to his own world to deal with yet another attack.  
  
*Yep, there it goes.* The pain in his arm always woke him up from the dream visions, and he opened his eyes to see the familiar ceiling above his bed. Checking the clock as he rolled out from under the warm sheets, he grimaced at the realization that it was nearly 2 in the morning. *Don't these bastards ever sleep? Oh, wait, evil never sleeps, so that means the good guys can't either.* He grumbled to himself as he threw on what he termed his hunting clothes, double checked his weapons, pinpointed the location of the attack on his screens, and Apparated away.  
  
The first thing Harry became aware of was the smell. The sharp, tangy odor of burning wood mixed with the scent of blood and the stink of the demons. A sense of fear hung in the air with the smoke, and screams rang through the trashed streets. The spot where Harry had appeared was deserted, so he made his way quickly toward the center of town, where the Death Eaters were concentrated, passing several dead bodies in the road.  
  
Harry kept to the shadows as he surveyed the scene. The black-robed figures stood in a loose circle around a group of writhing bodies. They were playing their favorite game of torturing Muggles and laughing. Harry spotted at least three young children in the circle, yelling and crying for their parents as they experienced the incredible pain of the Cruciatus. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and turned his disgust and sadness into rage and hate towards those who dared laugh at torturing children.  
  
As Wraith he stepped out of the shadows and gestured with one hand, canceling the curse and halting the agonized screams. The Death Eaters turned as a whole as he snarled out, "You bastards. You think you can gain power by torturing the weak. All you've managed to do is piss me off." With a thought the Dark wizards were all pinned to the ground by an immense force cutting off their airways. Over the strangled gasps and chokes he added maliciously, "It's not wise to piss me off."  
  
Wraith lifted a hand, and simultaneously a shield was cast over the huddled group of innocents, and the Death Eaters' wands flew toward him, where they burst into flame a few feet from him. He growled deep in his throat and advanced toward the pinned wizards, lifting the suffocation curse even as he prepared to cast a pain curse.  
  
Wraith was so intent on punishing the Death Eaters that he almost missed the dark shapes gathering in the shadows. As it was, he caught a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision and he jerked his head sharply to the side. That was his only warning as literally dozens of hideous demons leapt out at him from the buildings where they had hidden in wait. A trap.  
  
Wraith mentally berated himself as he dodged the initial rush and pulled out his wand and sword simultaneously. *Idiot! You knew they were around! You should have checked before barging in to play the hero!* He raised his wand and cast a banishing charm to send the creatures hurtling back a bit and clearing him some space to work. A nasty looking one ran at him, holding a double-bladed axe, and swung with tremendous strength at his head. Wraith ducked and sliced, carving a nice X in the demon's innards, and it collapsed. The next one received a couple of extra-strength poison darts in the eyes, and soon Wraith was fighting frantically as blood sprayed.  
  
Wraith winced as a fierce burning sensation slashed across his concealed scar, and he turned while dispatching another demon to see Voldemort standing at the edge of the town square, illuminated by the flames from the burning buildings, and simply watching the melee with a small cruel smile twisting his lipless mouth. Wraith bared his own teeth in a silent snarl and decapitated a feisty demon, its dark putrid blood speckling his face. Fatigue began to pull at him, and he was slightly too slow in blocking a dagger, earning himself a nice gash across his arm before gutting the offender with his sword.  
  
Abruptly a chorus of "pop!" rang out as the Order Apparated in with a full force of Aurors. They immediately assessed the situation and stunned the still-pinned Death Eaters before running to assist Wraith who was surrounded by the demon hoards. Wraith roared out, "NO! Stay back!" as the demons turned, snarling toward the newcomers. Voldemort chose that time to let out a high cold laugh, drawing attention to himself and away from his servants. Wraith knew that unless he did something drastic, many more would die here tonight.  
  
With a muttered word, his staff appeared in his hands. He cast a shield charm around himself strong enough to hold off the demons; he needed his full attention for this, and could not be distracted by them. Closing his eyes, he focused calling the powers of the earth, asking it as an Element to obey him. At the same time he sent a thought through the staff, using it to channel it into reality. The ground shuddered for a moment, and a bright light shot out of the ruby on the top of the staff to strike Voldemort just as the Dark Lord was pulling his wand. A brief look of surprise crossed his face before he disappeared.  
  
Now that the watcher was gone and he was free to work, Wraith refocused his full attention on the earth. It trembled again, and a giant crevasse opened up at his feet, the ground ripping apart to form a mouth that swallowed the demon armies whole. They fell shrieking and wailing, ricocheting off exposed rocks as they tumbled down into the very depths of the earth. The gathered wizards watched with wide fearful eyes. Even Dumbledore was amazed at the sheer power in this spectacle.  
  
Once the last of the demons present has disappeared, the ground rocked again and closed with a huge thunderous crash, sending everyone to their knees. When they looked up, no trace of the crack remained, and Wraith knelt there gasping, once again empty handed. He slowly got to his feet, and with a shaky snap of his fingers the last of the fires was extinguished. On slightly unsteady legs he walked over to the huddled Muggles, removing the shield and crouching down next to the crying children as the other wizards worked at helping restore the town.  
  
"Here, let me look at you," Wraith got their attention with a gentle voice. He touched each of their heads softly, finding the pain and the physical damage and healing it. To cover any after effects he got them to drink a little bit of one of his healing potions. One of them, a little girl with wide brown eyes, simply stared at him with tears running down her cheeks. He sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked her quietly. She shook her head. "The bad men, they hurt me real bad." "Yes I know. What's your name?" "Holly." Do you feel better now, Holly?" She nodded, then said, "They killed Mommy. And Daddy. And Ericka. She's my older sister." The tears ran faster, and she looked to be holding back sobs.  
  
Wraith's heart broke. He leaned over and gathered her in a hug, rocking back and forth as she shook, weeping in his arms. He buried his face in her soft hair, comforting her as best he could, and trying to temporarily shield her from the horrible reality. She was now an orphan like him, but she had had to watch her family die. Nothing could make that pain go away, nor the memories fade. So he simply held her tight.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Wraith stood at the edge of town, gazing down at the ruined buildings and ruined lives. He sighed deeply with exhaustion and sadness, still feeling the burning flame of rage toward Voldemort. He would pay, for this night and all the others just like it. For the terror his madness caused, and for all the broken families. Wraith felt the approach of another wizard, and let him come closer without turning. Albus Dumbledore clapped a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"You did a fine job out there tonight. That was . . . impressive, to say the least. How are you doing, by the way?" Wraith responded neutrally, "The arm'll be fine in a few hours. Have a couple of broken ribs from a nasty kick, but those'll heal right up once the potion kicks in. No major damage." Dumbledore looked sidelong at him. "Spoken like a true soldier," he commented dryly. "I meant, how are you doing? I saw you with the little girl."  
  
Wraith grimaced almost imperceptibly. "Holly just lost her entire family. Saw them murdered before her eyes, then was tortured for fun. I . . . I had to do something." He looked down at his hands. "Seeing kids being tortured, and then they were laughing . . . I wanted to kill them, to make them feel the pain they caused. I got careless . . . forgot about the demons, I just wanted to punish them." He gazed into the distance, seeing something other than Dumbledore's face. "She's an orphan, just like me, but she had to watch it. I was there when my parents were murdered, but I don't remember it. She will. She'll have nightmares about it." He shuddered. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone."  
  
Dumbledore nodded solemnly, the twinkle in his eyes reduced by the shadow of pain. "You understand how she feels and knew she needed comforting only one who knows could give. I'm sorry." He glanced over at the young warrior with a little more sparkle in his old eyes. "You are good with children though. I can see that." Wraith nodded distantly, pain reflected in his eyes, before he gave a tremendous yawn. He checked his watch. It was nearly 5 am, and he was almost asleep on his feet. Dumbledore gave him a slight smile, then grew serious.  
  
"One more thing. What did you do to Voldemort?" Wraith fluttered his hand vaguely. "I didn't want him there anymore. He wanted to watch the demons kill you all, so was serving as a distraction. I can't kill him just yet, timing's wrong, so I sent him away." Dumbledore frowned in confusion. "Away? Away to where?"  
  
"Near as I can tell, somewhere in Tibet, around the general vicinity of Mount Everest. Maybe he'll make friends with the yaks." Wraith grinned tiredly and bid the startled headmaster goodnight before Apparating home.  
  
While taking off his trenchrobe and morphing back to his usual form, Harry noticed something small and shiny black on the shoulder of his robe. On closer inspection it appeared to be a wizard tracking devise, newly invented and put into use by the Aurors. Harry shook his head. Either he really was tired, or the old man was getting sneakier as the years passed. It did not really matter, since the entire area around the house was completely Unplottable and nothing could track inside of it. Still, why take chances?  
  
Harry concentrated and the little black dot in his hand shimmered and disappeared. He smiled grimly as he climbed the stairs again and passed out on his bed, his consciousness returning to his research in the shadow archives. They would have a fun time tracking him down in Norway.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Several days later, on July 31st to be exact, Harry Potter woke with his mind racing frantically and heart pounding. It was his 16th birthday, but that did not register in his flustered state. No, something had occurred that had pushed the thought of celebration clear out of his head.  
  
He remembered.  
  
He could recall his dream visions of the shadow realm where the city of the Guardians was now, and realized why. Last night he was back searching through the farthest stacks of the archives when he came across a scroll lying misplaced by the bottom of a stack of old tomes threatening to topple over into a stack of bookcases. This one appeared to be old and tattered, until he touched it.  
  
Suddenly it glowed golden and a flowing script traced itself over clean, new-looking parchment. Astonished, Harry read eagerly. It seemed to be a journal of sorts, of one of the Guardians assigned to dispose of the second talisman, a dagger by the description. It traced the path the warriors took as they left a confusing trail for anything that tried to follow them. The talisman was highly sought after despite its dangers, and the warriors chosen were the most skilled and brave of those who volunteered for the difficult and vitally important journey.  
  
The journal writer left clues to the exact location of the talisman's hiding place. He never mentioned the name of the deserted island, but did say that it was filled with carved stone heads left by a race older than the Guardians' knowledge. In order to confuse any who would come after them, the warriors had multiplied the number of statues originally present. However, the entrance to the chamber the talisman was hidden in was under the only head that was not duplicated on the entire island.  
  
The writer has added a small entry at the end of the journal that encouraged Harry. "I am comforted by the fact that this journal will be stored in our city archives, where one day the one of the Prophecy will come. Only that One will be able to break the enchantments our Leaders have placed on this. Only the One will have the knowledge to read this and follow the clues I have laboriously and dutifully recorded.  
  
You travel with the blessings and powers of the Guardians at your side. I pray for your strength and determination, for not all who travel the shadowlands return. Godspeed to you."  
  
Harry had considered these words written so long ago specifically to him, even as he had memorized the entire journal. *I guess Death was right. I am the One. Damn!*  
  
Harry bolted out of bed and threw on his battle clothes, mentally reviewing the clues as he packed a small bag of essentials and strapped on his weapons. Now that he knew where the dagger was hidden, it was essential that he collect it as soon as possible to prevent Voldemort from acquiring it. He stopped himself as he ran downstairs, taking the time to calm himself and double check that he had everything in order, then grabbed a quick breakfast before leaving the house.  
  
He ran over the moors and the highlands, putting distance between himself and the property to prevent the possibility of tracking. He did not want to take the chance of the Dark forces finding his home, or worse, where he traveled to. Away from his wards he could actually disguise the portal signature better than within them. Finally reaching the summit of a hill over five miles away from his house, he made sure he was alone before creating the dimensional portal. He stepped through to land on what is now known as Easter Island.  
  
The tiny island seemed deserted, and no wonder. Here it was the middle of the winter's night, and a bitterly cold wind cut right through his padded clothes before Harry cast a warming charm. He pulled his wand and with a muttered "Lumos," he had enough light to examine the statues. He glanced around and sighed. It was going to be a long night.  
  
As the hours passed, he was exceptionally grateful for his increased memory retention as he compared the carved faces, searching for the sole individual without a twin. The sun was just starting to peek above the horizon by the time he found it, a face of average height but with a forbidding expression promising unspeakable things to those who would disturb it or its treasure. Harry circled it three times, then tapped its right eye in a set pattern.  
  
The eyes of stone came alive, blinked and glared fiercely at the teen. He stared right back defiantly, and said the incantation in the ancient tongue, "I am the One of prophecy come for my inheritance." The head slid over, revealing a circular staircase leading deep into the earth. With a final glance around, he disappeared into the earth, and the stone slid back over him, returning the island to its normal silent, watchful state.  
  
A soft glow seemed to emanate from the walls to illuminate the way. Harry walked for what seemed like forever, circling round and round and round while descending deeper. Even with his stamina and strength, his legs were cramping up with exertion and fatigue by the time he spotted the bottom. The stairs led to a narrow stone corridor, wet and slimy with mold that broadened out into a huge cavern. Harry guessed he was miles beneath the surface of the ocean, and examined everything intently, expecting traps and ambushes, senses on high alert.  
  
He pocketed his wand and took out his staff, ready for anything as he slowly walked through the cavern. A flash of movement caught the corner of his eye, and he whipped around. Suddenly an army of skeletons armed with swords, shields, spears, and bows all surrounded him and attacked. Harry used his staff to blast the front lines to pieces, then tossed it to his left hand while his right seized his own sword from its sheath.  
  
The skeletons closed in, all moving lightning fast with extraordinary skill. But Harry was faster. He leaped in the air to avoid a slashing attack and spat fireballs in all directions, decimating ranks as dozens burst into flames before crumpling to dust. He landed and parried another attack, then swept his blade through three of them, shattering them, spun and ducked even as he stabbed at another. With a wave of his hand, dozens of walking dead warriors were flung against the rock wall and collapsed into piles of dust.  
  
*Not very sturdy, are they?* Harry smirked slightly to himself before calling up a tornado that picked up the remaining walking bones and crushed them into each other. A few flew at the teen, which he took care of with his sword. Soon the battle was over, and the chamber was deserted again except for the dust on the floor as Harry walked to the other side and exited.  
  
He was in another room, pitch blackness enveloping everything. Raising his staff, he risked some illumination and the ruby shone brightly, almost white. At first he could not figure out why the floor was moving in such an odd fashion. Then with a jolt he realized it was covered with thousands upon thousands of snakes. They slid up to him, hissing angrily at the intruder, and several coiled around his legs, preventing him from moving.  
  
[An intruder,] a huge constrictor hissed. [What shall we do with him?] A viper spoke up, eyeing Harry with a gleam in his eyes. [It has been a long time since we have had something new and delicious to eat. I say we kill him and eat him.]  
  
[I wouldn't if I were you] Harry hissed back, and the snakes at large coiled back in surprise. [What is this? A human who can speak our tongue?] The constrictor appeared shocked, or at least it would if Harry could interpret snake facial expressions. [Yes, I can speak your tongue and understand it. You were placed here as a trap for all those who seek the talisman, yes?]  
  
The general volume level of hissing rose, and a smaller cobra spoke up. [Correct, young speaker. We are to kill all those whose quest is for the talisman, except for the One appointed to receive it.] Harry grinned in relief at those words. [Good, because I am the One of prophecy come for my inheritance.] There was a sharp hiss, almost a gasp, and then the snakes wiggled and slithered to make a path for him through the room. As he walked among them, he noticed they seemed to be bowing down to him. When he reached the far door he turned.  
  
[There may be another one who can speak your language who comes after me. He is my enemy, so do with him as you were instructed long ago.] Hisses of agreement followed him as he continued to the next room. This room also appeared empty, and he spotted a door on the far side, but resisted the urge to run to it, instead searching for more traps. He found one just as he was about to set it off.  
  
Harry had almost stepped on a nearly invisible mark in the stone floor, and he knelt down to examine it. An idea struck him, and he used his sword to press it lightly. Instantly a dart, undoubtedly poisoned, shot out of a hidden recess and clanged into the blade before falling to the floor. The stones hissed as the poison dripped from the tip and began to dissolve the stone. Harry raised his staff to increase the available light, and saw several more such markings on the floor, spaced just right so that one could not possibly pass safely unless one had feet the size of a house elf's and the jumping abilities of a hyperactive bullfrog.  
  
Instead of trying to pick his way across gingerly, Harry levitated himself across the booby trap to the door, checking his landing area for more traps before setting down. The door had no handle and gave no indication on how to open it. After a moment, he just knocked and waited.  
  
A few seconds passed, then a voice asked rudely, "What?" Harry answered with the same phrase that he had given the statue and the snakes. "Oh yeah? Prove it!" came the answer in an even snider tone. Harry spread his hands in exasperation. "How do I prove it, other than that I am here?" His right hand waved over where a handle should have been, and abruptly the voice changed its tone. "Oh, my lord, you have come. Quick, enter and you shall find what you seek."  
  
Sounds were heard as locks were opened, and Harry tried to puzzle out what he had done when the door creaked open to reveal a brightly lit room, as if filled with sunlight. Squinting after being used to the dim lights of the other rooms, he stepped inside and scanned the room. It was empty of furnishings, but the walls were carved with images and runes, depictions of battles and ancient incantations.  
  
Harry wandered over to inspect them, noting the exquisite work and the spells described with an almost reverent eye. As soon as he touched it though, one of the warriors rippled and moved out of the wall, quickly filling out to become a man standing with full armor and a drawn sword. He smiled in greeting, incongruous to his battle gear, and stated, "I have been waiting for you. I knew you would find this place eventually. Before you can have the talisman, however, you must pass a final task."  
  
Harry nodded, so one gauntleted hand snapped, and a baby boy materialized on the floor, sound asleep. "This little one," he indicated the slumbering child "will grow up to become the greatest dark wizard the world has ever faced. Right now his mother has named him Tom Riddle. But once a man he will be know as Lord Voldemort. Kill him and you can have the dagger."  
  
Harry glanced from the warrior to the baby disbelievingly. "You must be joking." "I assure you, I am quite serious." Harry shook his head firmly. "I can't kill a baby. He's innocent." "For now yes. But remember, he will grow up to murder your own parents and threaten all those you hold dear. Destroy him now before he can do that, before he can create that unholy alliance with the creature. Only then will I give you the dagger."  
  
Harry felt torn, but followed his heart. "No. No matter what he will do, he is not a danger now. Killing in battle or in judgment is honorable, but this is murder." He spat the word out in disgust. "I would be no better than Voldemort if I killed a harmless baby." The two warriors stared each other in the eye, a silent battle of wills passing between them.  
  
Then the guardian smiled. "Your heart is right, young phoenix. Look closer." Harry warily bent down to examine the baby. With a gasp he recognized, hidden under a lock of dark hair, a familiar lightning scar on the baby's forehead. "Yes. It is you. If you had killed him, you would have destroyed yourself. You and Voldemort happen to share many things in common, but as you know; your choices determine what you really are. Remember this and take your inheritance."  
  
The warrior knelt down on one knee and raised up a dagger in his palms for Harry to take. It was exquisitely crafted of ivory and steel, undecorated except for a golden depiction of the Millennium Eye on the blade near the hilt. Harry reached out and grasped it with a steady hand.  
  
Instantly he was no longer in the underground room or in anyplace really, but someplace without space or time, a place that was completely foreign yet unmistakably familiar at the same time. It throbbed with magic, the strings that tied everything together visible, crisscrossing his vision. He felt the power of ht universe at his fingertips, and could feel knowledge being poured, pounded, and pushed into every synapse in his brain, more information than even the archives in the shadow realm held.  
  
In the mass of new revelations, Harry clearly heard a voice chanting softly, speaking to his heart:  
  
A great evil shall arise, more terrible than any before.  
  
A shroud of darkness will fall, enslaving all, impenetrable save for one.  
  
A child shall be born of light, the blood of the four in his veins.  
  
Bright as a star, the heir of Merlin joins with the angel's light.  
  
He alone can shoulder the burden, holding the fire in his soul.  
  
Only he can defeat the darkness, with the fire of the sky as his sign,  
  
And the strength of the lion in his heart.  
  
Darkness rises, darkness falls, but the light will always prevail.  
  
The Prophecy, Harry knew it, spoken long before Merlin or Hogwarts ever existed, hidden for so long by the ancient magical forces. He felt brave yet terrified, overwhelmed yet free, omnipotent yet so fragile. The contradictions seemed natural as multitudes of colors surrounded him, each a different type of magic. He watched as stars were born and died, places created and destroyed, lives flashing past in less time than it takes for a heart to beat. He felt, saw, sensed, experienced everything at once.  
  
His senses overloaded; it was too much, too fast. His mortal mind could not process it. Finally he fainted, leaving behind most of the knowledge, the powers, the colors and the visions as an all encompassing darkness closed over him.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron was worried. He had sent a message to Harry on his birthday, which had been four days ago, and his friend had yet to respond. The Weasleys had hoped that Harry could come to their house for a surprise birthday party, but never received an answer. Everyone was concerned, as they considered the orphaned teen a part of their family.  
  
Ron tried messaging Sirius and Dumbledore, hoping that maybe his parchment was not working correctly. He had received fairly rapid responses that they would try to reach Harry. But no luck. Ron desperately wished he could send Hedwig with a note; at least with that method he knew if something was wrong with the delivery system or the receiver. But she could not find her master, he was too well hidden.  
  
Hermione was also staying at the Burrow this summer. She arrived the day before Harry's birthday because her parents left on a business trip to a dental conference in America. While she and Ron did manage to find some time to be alone together, they always had to be wary of prying family members, particularly the twins, whose joke shop was really revving up.  
  
Still, now Hermione fretted about Harry worse than ever. He was like the brother she never had, and she worried about him almost as much as Mrs. Weasley. Knowing Harry Potter gave them gray hairs. Sirius was not much better off, to be judged by the tone of the messages he wrote frequently.  
  
Dumbledore was more concerned that no new attacks had been reported in over a week. Usually no news was good news, but not with Voldemort. It simply meant he was planning something big. An attack might explain his student's long silence, but nothing . . . That led to guessing and assumptions, which in turn could easily trigger a panic. He devoutly wished Harry had given him something to track him down with. Instead, all anyone could do was worry and wait.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry groaned and rolled over onto his back. *Where the hell am I?* His eyes felt gritty and did not want to open very wide, objecting to the light shining in them. His entire body was stiff and sore, as if he had run the length of the UK and collapsed while on the way back. He lay still as memory returned, the dagger still clenched tight in one fist.  
  
Gradually his other senses rebooted, and he discovered he was lying on a grass and heather covered hilltop; it was a bright and sunny summer morning, and he was famished. Slowly he sat up as stiff muscles protested angrily at the movement. Dragging his pack onto his lap and pulling out a few energy bars, he munched these as he surveyed his surroundings. With a jolt he realized he recognized these hills. His home should be just over the next hill. Wearily he pressed himself up and stumbled towards his sanctuary. He was never happier to see anything in his entire life.  
  
Harry entered the kitchen and proceeded to eat everything and anything he could get his hands on. While a full dinner cooked in the oven (it tasted better than if heated strictly by magic), he carried a plate with a huge sandwich, crisps, and a tall glass of milk to the table. As he ate, he happened to glance at the calendar. It said August 7th.  
  
Harry dropped the sandwich in shock. He had been out for a full week! Agitated, he summoned the IMP to him and received the messages waiting for his perusal. Groaning, he skimmed the over three dozen messages as they scrolled across the parchment. How was he going to explain this one? He could not tell them everything quite yet, and besides, they would never believe him. Harry had trouble believing it himself. He read and pondered as he consumed the sandwich, then started on the chicken and potatoes with broccoli, rice, and cheese-topped celery sticks, and topping it all of with a hot cherry cobbler and vanilla ice cream. Whatever that episode was with the dagger, it certainly sucked a lot out of him.  
  
He yawned hugely as he considered the dilemma on what to tell his friends for now. Finally he picked up a quill, scribbled off a quick "I'm all right. Sorry I took a few days to get back to you. Long story, will explain later." He sent this to all the IMPs, then went upstairs and collapsed on the bed, sound asleep long before his head hit the pillow in a thankfully dreamless unconsciousness. 


	13. We Interrupt this Broadcast

A/N: crap, more fluff snuck in here. I know that some people don't like R/H pairings, and I did consider breaking them up to get rid of the fluffy bunnies. But then I decided Harry's got enough problems without his friends having romantic problems too. Teenagers are too volatile as it is, and this fic is not centered on romance. Ignore it for now. Besides, some butt kicking action follows. And everybody's favorite, Eva!  
  
Warning: lots of innuendo in this chapter. And a purely evil cliffhanger.  
  
Disclaimer: the usual.  
  
Chapter 13  
  
The Weasleys had invited Dumbledore, Remus and Sirius over for lunch the following day, ostensibly to discuss Order business, but in actuality to discuss Harry's disturbing silence. Molly had whipped up a delicious spread which tempted even the waning appetites of Harry's godfather and friends. For some odd reason, she kicked the house elves out of the kitchen, and consigned them to doing any chores but cooking.  
  
Afterward the adults in the Order withdrew to the huge sitting room, Fred and George headed up to their inventing room with wicked gleams in their eyes that signified a new product was about to be invented, and Ginny sat out on the porch swing reading. Ron proposed that he and Hermione take a walk, which she readily agreed to. The Minister's house had an extensive garden, as the Weasleys had bought more property around the house, and Hermione loved to walk along the flagstone paths.  
  
While she ran to the bathroom to freshen up a bit, Ron climbed up to his room. Just like in his old house, his room was at the top, but now it was bigger, with a sky light and no ghoul upstairs to throw things. He dug through his wardrobe, trying to find that silk shirt Hermione loved on him, and upon finding it slipped it on quickly.  
  
After checking his hair in the mirror, ("Looking nice, dear!" the mirror commented,) he happened to glance at his desk, littered with bits of parchment and random articles from the Chudley Cannons. His books were stashed haphazardly in the bookcase, around more orange memorabilia. On top of the mess on the desk lay the IM parchment. It was glowing bright blue.  
  
Ron's heart started racing. Everyone else who had an IMP was already in the house; except for . . . He tapped the parchment and stared at the brief scribbled note and the scrawled signature underneath. Then he let out a loud whoop of joy that carried throughout the entire house. And considering how big the house was, that is saying something.  
  
Hermione ran up to his room, followed closely by the twins to find Ron dancing about wildly like a savage witch doctor from the Amazon under the influence of many hallucinogenic drugs. He was waving the IMP above his head and still joyfully yelling something about "gonna kill that bloody git!" "Ron? Ron! What's going on?! Wha . . .?" Ron seized Hermione's hands and pulled her into a little dance of joy before hugging her tightly to him, cutting off her air supply.  
  
He released her and thrust the IMP in her hands, grinning broadly like a complete idiot. She quickly read the message, then gave a shout of relief and tackled her boyfriend in a hug. Fred and George exchanged a raised eyebrow, then picked up the parchment from where Hermione had dropped it to read whatever had gotten the other two so excited.  
  
Fred snorted. "Harry's alive, just not taking calls at the moment. All right George, you win." He handed over two Galleons which his brother pocketed eagerly. Ron fixed him with a glare frightfully reminiscent of Snape on a bad day. "You two were betting on whether Harry was alive?" George shrugged amicably. "Just a tiny wager, which I won. Harmless." The two pranksters grinned and beat it back to their sanctuary.  
  
Hermione just shook her head and urged Ron out of the room by the hand. "Let's go show the others." As the teens entered the sitting room, Sirius glanced over at them, noting their mussed hair and flushed faces, and said, "It was you two making that racket? You need to be more discreet, unless you want to get caught." At his suggestive eyebrow waggle and wicked grin, Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment and Ron blushed purple. She stammered, "N, no it's not what you think." "At least put up a Silencing charm next time."  
  
"Sirius!" Ron yelled. "We weren't doing anything. I was just excited to see this." He tossed the IMP to the ex-convict. Sirius read it with Remus looking over his shoulder before letting out a strange noise, a mix of a yell of joy and a sigh of relief. He slumped back in his seat with a relieved smile on his face, lines of worry disappearing to make him seem 20 years younger.  
  
The other adults were quickly informed of the good news, and Ron went over to the study to scrounge up a quill and dash off a message to his best friend. Then he rejoined his girlfriend and they strolled outside hand in hand through the gardens, much more relieved now they knew their wayward friend was fine.  
  
For a long time they walked in silence, just enjoying each other's company. A fountain situated in the middle of a courtyard of lilac bushes splashed cool water over marble, and they sat on the stone bench across from it. Hermione sighed happily and leaned her head against Ron's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close while breathing in the scent of her hair.  
  
The day was a rarity for England, bright and sunny without being muggy. A light breeze stirred through the lilacs, carrying their heavenly scent. Ron pressed a light kiss on the top of his girlfriend's head, and she turned in his arms and sat up to face him. He met her halfway, their lips meeting like so many times before, but each one different and special unto itself. The kiss lasted several minutes before a light cough broke them apart.  
  
Ginny stood there, obviously amused that she had interrupted their little snog session. Before either of the blushing teens could say a word, she told them, "Mum told me to come find you. Something's going on, and we all need to be inside now." Alarmed, all three walked hurriedly back to the house. Molly Weasley was waiting on the porch, wringing her hands in obvious distress. "There you are!" she exclaimed and dragged them forcibly inside.  
  
In the living room, people were running around preparing for something while the radio blared over their hushed voices. They were trying to listen and run at the same time.  
  
"This is WWN, reporting live from Diagon Alley, where just minutes ago an army of dark creatures invaded with groups of Death Eaters and began attacking civilians. Let's go to Samantha Savich, WWN reporter currently trapped at the battle sight."  
  
As the teens exchanged horrified glances, they realized that the adults were getting ready to Apparate to the battle site. A crackle of static was heard, and a different voice announced, "This is Samantha Savich. I am currently hiding inside Flourish and Blotts with several other people seeking sanctuary. We can see several Death Eaters in the street; it appears they are torturing people with the Unforgivables. Creatures are running about everywhere, smashing store windows and terrorizing those unlucky enough to not find shelter. Oh my God!"  
  
A brief silence and harsh breathing. "One of those creatures just killed a woman . . . it was . . . horrible, she's just . . . lying there in the street . . ." Screams and the sound of shattering glass. "A curse just hit the front window here and smashed it. We're all okay in here for now. One of my companions just informed me that these creatures are demons. Apparently they've been regularly spotted accompanying Death Eaters and He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in their terror attacks. Oh thank Merlin!  
  
"Aurors have arrived, there's a full scale battle raging in the streets outside. The Death Eaters are falling back . . . wait, no! Demons fell on the Aurors from behind, I can see three, no four Aurors down. They're retreating . . . Look out!" The voice abruptly cut off, leaving static buzzing over the air waves. The Order members were almost finished with their battle preparations and got ready to Apparate in.  
  
The announcer came back on the air. "We've lost contact with Ms. Savich now. We pray she's all right. Another reporter is at the scene, we are trying to establish contact with him . . ." With a crackle and buzz, a male voice came on. "Hello? Hello? If anyone can hear this, I'm David Nielson with WWN News. I'm reporting from Diagon Alley, currently under attack. I'm trapped inside Gringotts, safe for now. The goblins have sealed all the entrances, and we are just watching the events outside."  
  
"Flourish and Blotts was just hit, the building's on fire. I can see people running out, some apparently injured. The Aurors Apparated in just moments ago and have already suffered casualties. Many civilians are down in the streets, can't tell if they're alive. The demons are forcing the Aurors back, two more are down . . . What the bloody hell is that?!"  
  
A roaring, rushing sound could be heard, followed by many screams and distant, unearthly shrieks. The Order members paused before Apparating as the reporter swallowed hard and said, "Um, I know this sounds crazy, but a fire-breathing lion has just joined the battle in Diagon Alley."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry mused on the unfairness of the universe as he incinerated more demons that charged him. He was in the middle of the most refreshing nap he had ever taken, without dreams or visions to plague him, when the blasted alarm that alerted him to demon attacks rudely woke him. A quick look at his screen confirmed a huge force attacking Diagon Alley and the Aurors' arrival. Rolling his eyes and cursing Fate, he knew he had to go and decided to Apparate directly from his house.  
  
He reappeared as Wraith in his hunting clothes around the corner from the main battle and transformed into a lion. In the course of his research in the shadow realm, he learned a lot of neat little tricks the Guardians had developed. One was this interesting little spell that, when combined with an Animagus, could allow them to breathe fire. Harry wanted to destroy the demons as quickly as possible, and a flame-throwing feline seemed like a good weapon of mass destruction.  
  
Wraith dodged as a curse shot at him, then he turned and with a swipe of massive paws the Death Eater dropped. He shot fire at the clustered group of Dark wizards, and they scattered to avoid being flambé-ed. The Aurors and Ministry Hit Wizards were advancing again as the lion finished grilling the demons to piles of ash. The beast turned to the human invaders, a raging fire of hate gleaming in his unnaturally green eyes.  
  
Curses flew through the air and Death Eaters fell more often than the defenders. The lion disappeared around a corner with a stealthiness that belied its size, then reappeared behind the retreating Death Eaters and pounced with a huge roar. Within a minute it was all over, with dead or stunned figures lying sprawled on the cobblestones, several bodies still smoking.  
  
The lion seemed to glare at his victims as he snarled, baring bloody fangs. His magnificent golden coat was spattered with black ash and blood. He stretched and in the blink of an eye transformed back into Wraith. The young wizard and the Aurors stared at each other for several long moments, then Wraith turned his attention to the Dark Mark hovering over the scene, somehow shot up in the midst of battle. He extended his palm out and cast the Light Mark, confirming his identity to the Aurors. They began to assist in the clean up by snuffing out the blaze at the bookstore and healing the wounded. Questions could wait.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
The reporter's nervous voice gave a blow-by-blow commentary of the entire incident, then silence fell as he stared, astonished, at the young Animagus. He found his voice. "The lion was, is an Animagus. He's a young wizard, looks to be in his early twenties with long black hair. He's just fired the Light Mark into the sky. Who is this guy? Oh, hey, the goblins have unsealed the doors, we can leave."  
  
Once outside, he continued his report to the waiting world. "Flourish and Blotts is no longer burning, but the damage is extensive. Wait, that's Sam! Samantha Savich, my fellow WWN reporter is outside with me now. She looks a little worse for wear but happy to be alive." David Nielson glanced around; ignoring the look Samantha gave him at his comments, focusing on the wanton destruction and the Ministry's preliminary clean-up efforts.  
  
"I'm going to try and interview the Aurors to see if they can shed some light on this attack. Excuse me sir . . . okay, no. Sir, could I ask . . . Ma'am, just a moment of your time . . . oh sir, may I . . . it's you! May I ask you a few questions regarding today's attack?" A tired nod answered him, and he visibly brightened. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm standing here with the young wizard who helped turn the tide of the battle. What is your name?" "You may call me Wraith."  
  
Back at the Burrow, the Order members exchanged knowing glances, having sat back down when the news of the lion had come over the air. Ron and Hermione smirked at each other too, but for a completely different reason. The radio squawked again. "Was there a motive behind this attack that you can see?"  
  
"For now it appears wanton destruction, terror and chaos was the purpose today. Civilian casualties were light, but two people were killed. The demons here were destroyed, but there are still more out there." "May I ask how you managed such a timely arrival?" Wraith snorted. "I'm sure the Aurors would've appreciated it if I'd gotten here sooner. They were hit hard by those creatures." "Any further comments?" "Not at this time."  
  
"Well then, thank you Wraith for your time. This is David Nielson for WWN, live from Diagon Alley."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Dumbledore reached over and snapped off the radio, then leaned back in his chair and sighed. "This certainly puts a new spin on things. How did the Death Eaters get around the wards on Diagon Alley?" Silence prevailed over the group as they mulled over what they had just heard. He shook his head. "That Wraith is always doing something surprising. I planted a tracking device on him at the last attack, and had the Aurors try to track him down. We found the device stuck in one of the fjords in Norway three days later. Somehow he found it and knew to dispose of it." Then Sirius spoke up.  
  
"Why am I not surprised to hear Wraith is an Animagus? I almost expected him to show up once I heard there were demons at the attack, but the fire- spouting lion bit . . ." He shook his head. "Of course, how could it have been anyone but him? He's crazy enough." Remus snorted at that. "This coming from the man who wrecked havoc as an Animagus before spending 12 years in Azkaban." Sirius glared at him, but a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.  
  
Arthur cleared his throat to distract them and draw attention. "This was certainly the most blatant attack yet, but seemingly the most pointless. Something strange is going on, something changed and Voldemort knows it." Ron was proud that his dad could finally say the name without flinching. "I've been getting news all week from around the world. Magical disruptions and surges, weather changing in the blink of an eye. A hurricane building over the Gulf of Mexico just disappeared, clear skies as far as the eye could see. The Chilean Prime Minister reported strange lights and magic surges on Easter Island several days ago that lasted a few hours. Same thing at Stonehenge.  
  
"No new attacks, not only here but in any country we know the Dark Lord to be active, for almost two weeks. Then this one," he paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. "I can't help thinking that Harry has something to do with it. No communication with anybody since his birthday, suddenly reappears hours before the attack, no explanations. He knows this elusive Wraith but refuses to tell us anything about him."  
  
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe we should ask him. Besides," he added with a small grin visible beneath his long silver beard, "we haven't given him his presents yet."  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry Apparated back to his house after making sure the Ministry had everything in hand and no new tracking devices had been planted on him. The IMP was flashing again, this time with only two messages. Ron wrote that he missed him and so did Hermione, and that if better be a damned good story.  
  
Harry laughed as he glanced down at the next one from Sirius. His godfather complained that they had missed his birthday for the second year in a row, and he had better have a good reason. He also had a present for Harry and wondered when they would see each other again. Harry thought it over as he collapsed in the hammock in the garden.  
  
Now would probably be a good time to tell them, unblock the rest of their memories and tell them about the talisman. Idly he wondered if the attack today was because Voldemort had found out that the second talisman was already gone. Somehow he doubted it. He glanced around and grinned. Maybe it was time to show off his new house. Decided, Harry began to write.  
  
"The time for explanations has come. And don't worry, I promise it'll be a good story. I've finally gotten my house fixed up just right, so now I am inviting all of you over for a dinner party and storytelling session. August 9th, at 6 pm. Dress is casual, because I hate dress robes. At 6 pm on the 9th your parchments will become Portkeys, which will bring you right to my house. Feel free to bring all your family, and plan on spending the night. I have plenty of room. RSVP." He signed his name with a flourish and sent the message off to all the IMPs. He stretched, then nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice came from behind him.  
  
"You've certainly been busy lately." Harry spun around and accidentally dumped himself out of the hammock spectacularly, nearly landing on his head. Eva stood there giggling at his gracefulness, or lack thereof. She teased him, "Come now Harry. I think we've known each other long enough for you to not have to bow down before me anymore. But you may kiss my hand." She extended the back of her hand, the regal manner spoiled by the mischievous glint in her eyes.  
  
Harry accepted the hand, but used it to pull himself up and then wrapped her in a quick hug. "It's great to see you. Been way too long." "That it has. But this time I come bearing gifts. Since you were . . . indisposed on your birthday, I had to wait to present you with it." He glanced questioningly over at her; she smiled and nodded, telling him that yes, she did know what had happened.  
  
They walked through the house chatting lightly about the coming party and people's possible reactions to the news. Eva stepped ahead and threw open the front doors with a flourish. There on the front walk was a mint condition shiny black motorcycle.  
  
Harry dimly felt his mouth drop open in astonishment. Never in his life had anyone given him something like this. He slowly walked up to it and reverently ran a hand over the leather seat, the polished black and chrome body; the whole machine screamed speed and adventure. Eva, grinning widely at his reaction, explained, "That is a Vincent Black Shadow, one of the best motorcycles ever built. The line was discontinued in 1955, and you don't want to know how much trouble finding one of these is. Normally she tops out at around 200 km/hr, but I did a little retooling. She's magical now; she flies."  
  
Harry threw her an incredulous look as he circled the cycle. "Remember that little dream of yours with the flying motorcycle? That was Sirius'. He loved that machine more than any girl he's ever met. Unfortunately when he was arrested and thrown into Azkaban, all his property was seized by the Ministry. Due to a misfiling of paperwork the bike somehow ended up in a Muggle junkyard, and was eventually crushed into scrap metal. Shame, really, it was a nice bike. Anyway, I decided you needed a new toy to play with. In the Muggle world, 16 is the normal age for receiving your driver's license. I'll just teach you to ride this baby."  
  
Harry paced around the Shadow, listening to her but his full attention on the machine. Eva spent the rest of the afternoon showing him how to ride it and maintain it, explaining the levitation and invisibility boosters. Finally they took a couple of test rides/flights just so he could get the hang of it.  
  
The handling was unbelievably smooth and she was fast! On a straightaway he opened her up, gunning the accelerator until they could be mistaken for a low flying aircraft. Once they hit the highlands, the road wound through the hills, and Harry pushed the laws of physics as they whipped around the curves. He relished in the speed and the power. Eva yelled with excitement as they leaned through another curve at around 160 km/hr. then Harry shot off the side of the hill and in midair activated the levitation feature. It worked beautifully, and Harry could make the Shadow do almost anything, defying the laws of gravity. Eventually they landed back at the house, breathless and windblown, eyes shining.  
  
Harry pulled Eva to him in a tight hug. "This is the best birthday present anyone has ever given me. Thank you so much!" On impulse he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. By now it was dark out, and they headed back inside to cook dinner together. They laughed and joked around as they created a sumptuous meal of grilled teriyaki pork loin, seasoned rice, fresh vegetables, and French bread. Only when the two sat down to eat did the conversation turn to more serious matters.  
  
"Are you sure you're ready to tell them everything? Once they find out that you are Wraith, they're going to watch you closer than ever. You'll lose some of the freedom and security anonymity gave you." She frowned as she bit into a carrot. "Besides, I can't help but think of the old adage: 'Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead.'"  
  
Harry nodded and bit into a piece of bread. "I'm aware of that, but the timing is right. They need to be aware of everything I'm capable of so they'll stop worrying so much." She snorted. "Yeah, like that's going to make them stop worrying." He continued, "But also so they will stay out of my way. I won't have to sneak around as much. This war's intensifying rapidly; the normal wizards can't deal with the demon attacks and the body count is growing. Voldemort is gaining power and new followers. My efforts before delayed him and forced him to use another method to defeat me."  
  
He sipped some water and sighed. "It's become a chess game, with each side trying to maneuver their pieces into place before their opponent sets up the checkmate. I can't hold anything back. The final battle draws near, before the end of the year; I can feel it. If I want any chance at winning I need to draw him onto my battlefield to keep an advantage."  
  
Eva nodded her understanding of his tactics. "I'm assuming Hogwarts. It's the easiest to draw him too, and it can protect the innocents caught in the crossfire. Sooner or later he will realize you have the second talisman and will come for it." She paused for a moment and chewed a bit of meat. "You do realize what a risk you're taking, not only with your life but with the others. What if he surprises you and steals the talisman?" Harry shuddered, Death's words echoing through his mind. "Then we are all in a shitload of trouble."  
  
After a moment, she asked, "Are you going to tell Dumbledore?" "Not the entire plan, but enough to let him take precautions to protect the students." He looked pensive. "I know it's very risky and dangerous, but I don't have any better ideas. No matter what this is going to get very bloody. The longer he's out there, the more the dark spreads." Eva and Harry silently finished eating and washed up.  
  
Then Eva proposed, "Are you up to sparring tonight? Or did toasting demons wear you out?" "You wish," Harry retorted and they raced to the weapons room. They spent the next hours dueling with different weapons, neither gaining an advantage for more than a few seconds before the other retaliated. They switched to unarmed combat, where Harry tried out all styles of formal fighting to kick his trainer's butt.  
  
Eva had been silently evaluating him, and suddenly began to fight dirty, taking Harry by surprise and dumping him flat on his back in pain in a matter of seconds. "Where did that come from?" he gasped. "What, you never learned street fighting? You know all forms of formal combat, but sometimes you just need to get down and dirty. Remember, there are no rules of war when it comes down to it; it's only survival. Darwinism in action." She watched and lectured as he got to his feet. "This type of fighting isn't taught by respectable masters, but in back alleys and by schoolyard bullies. It's rough and it's messy."  
  
She frowned. "They didn't want me to teach you this, but I think it's important. Sometimes you just gotta improvise." Abruptly she punched at his face, and he just barely avoided it. "Good, expect the unexpected. It's all about taking your enemy down as fast as you can with the maximum amount of damage. That way he won't get back up at you. I won't hurt you too badly this time." Eva grinned and leapt at him in a tackle around the neck and he went down, beginning a wrestling match.  
  
It was like fighting a starved and crazed wildcat. She used everything- teeth, nails, gouges, punches, and knees- to get at him. Harry, for all his strength and training, could not do anything besides try and fend her off away form the vital spots. It was over in less than a minute. He laid gasping and bleeding on the floor, while she stood and brushed hair out of her eyes.  
  
"See what I mean? This is also good pain management training, as well as an opportune time to practice self-healing. You gotta be ready to take the pain, ignore it, get back up and kick some ass." Harry cursed at her in five different languages before concentrating on healing himself. Soon he could stand again, wiping off the blood from healed scratches. Eva grinned. "Enough for tonight. Think about what I said, and I'll see you in the morning."  
  
They headed off for their separate bedrooms, and Harry stood in the shower for a long time, massaging out the remaining aches and pains from the day. *She sure can be a tough bitch at times,* he thought ruefully. ^Hey, I heard that. Quit your whining, you big baby. You're gonna get more of that tomorrow, and I'm not going to show any mercy.^ *No mercy? That's what you're going to be begging me for.*  
  
She snorted. ^Yeah right. I never beg. Get to bed. You're going to need your strength.^ Harry smiled. *Why? Are you waiting there for me?* ^You wish. Just for that you're going to get a nice set of scratches on your back that you'll have to explain to your friends and godfather. Not to mention your pain while walking.^ Harry could feel her evil grin. *My, you are certainly frisky tonight,* he commented wryly with an arch of an eyebrow.  
  
^Must have been that ride earlier. I just love to feel the throbbing power between my legs.^ Harry could not stop himself from blushing at that insinuation as she laughed throatily. ^I'd better stop before you have to clean off the shower. Good night.^ He just covered his face with his hands and groaned, regretting that he had started the whole thing. *Good night.* He climbed out of the shower, dried off and was soon in bed fast asleep.  
  
Upon seeing the familiar dreamscape, Harry groaned again. "No rest for the weary, huh?" "Quite right, young phoenix." Lady Death fairly glided up to him. "Good work on finding and recovering the talisman. But did I not tell you to destroy it?" "You did, but I can't yet." "And why not?" Harry began to pace. "The talisman and I are both bait for my trap for Voldemort. I need to force him to come to me, on my terms, and this is the surest and fastest way."  
  
"You are taking an awful risk, young phoenix. The fate of the Light is in your hands." "I know, and that is why I'm doing this." Lady Death stared into his determined green eyes, then nodded. "Very well. I have heard you can no longer risk spying on Voldemort personally because of the demons. But they cannot detect dreams, so watch and learn."  
  
With a wave of her hand, the air rippled, the scenery changed, and Harry was standing in the meeting hall of the fortress, surrounded by Death Eaters. Not one of them noticed his presence, so he knew he was not really there. Breathing out a sigh of relief he had not realized he had been holding in, he gazed around. On the throne raised above their heads at the far end sat Voldemort, in all his malevolent glory.  
  
"My faithful Death Eaters, my demon armies have found the archives that will tell us how to find the second talisman. They are written in an ancient tongue which dark creatures cannot read. Who among you can translate old languages and script?" Three dark-hooded figures stepped forward and raised their hands. "Good. You three will be shown the way to the archives by my servants. I want this done as quickly as possible. Your lives depend on it." They were led out, trembling slightly in fear.  
  
"Now, Avery, report on the magical surges. What have you found?" Another Death Eater stepped forward and kneeled. Harry was disgusted at his actions as he spoke to the floor. "My lord, they began in the morning of July 31st with the strongest surges detected in South America, and have occurred all over the world in a weakening pattern. Even Muggles have felt them, but find natural causes to blame them on. Over the course of the past week they have died off, and my team and I have not been able to find their cause. The Ministry does not know either, my lord."  
  
Voldemort scowled for a moment, then waved the man to get back in ranks. "Now, about this afternoon's attack. As you all have heard, the entire force was either captured or killed by a young wizard who goes by the name Wraith. The spies that I had watching have confirmed that this is the same wizard who compromised the Azkaban operation. There I stabbed him with a knife laced with a rare Dark poison that kills quickly but painfully. The poison and the antidote are both know only to a select few, since it is my own invention."  
  
He sat back and appeared to be considering a puzzle, steepling his long pale fingers in front of his face. "The only way Wraith could be alive now to torment me some more is if one of these people administered the antidote. Lonsdale and Webmeyer are dead, and Lestrange was not rescued from Azkaban before Wraith got him. Therefore there are only two left. I certainly did not, so . . . Severus? What do you have to say about this?" he asked with a malicious smile.  
  
With a jolt Harry recognized the Potions Master standing in the front row. He had forgotten that Snape was still a spy in the Death Eater ranks. Now it appeared he would be killed for saving Harry's life.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Snape swallowed hard. This was it, the moment he knew was coming the instant he had accepted Dumbledore's forgiveness and agreed to spy for him. He steeled himself and straightened. After all, death does not matter, only how you meet it. He stepped forward and announced in a loud, clear voice, "Yes, I brewed and administered the antidote. I was part of the Ministry force that fought at Azkaban, who took Wraith back to Hogwarts and healed him."  
  
Stirrings and mutterings could be heard, and Snape realized he could possibly stop there and still have a slight chance at life. But why stop now? That was the coward's way out. The whole situation was making him physically ill, and he knew he would never bow down to the Dark Lord any longer. He continued, "I have been a spy for Dumbledore since before your first defeat. I alerted the Aurors to the attack on Diagon Alley today. How do you think they got such a large force there so fast? And for the past five years at Hogwarts, I have helped to protect Harry Potter from your agents."  
  
He stared straight into those glowing blood red eyes as shocked murmurs ran through the assembled ranks. He had not felt this free since . . . But he knew it would not last. Voldemort shook his head in mock sadness. "Ah, Severus, my friend, did you think that by confessing your treason I might be lenient?" Snape curled his lip in a disgusted snarl. "Hardly. I tell you to show my contempt of you, you filthy half-blood."  
  
The glowing eyes widened as the Potions Master slowly stalked up the steps to the throne, nearly growling in his silky tones, sounding almost deadly. "You and your precious preference of purebloods when you're not even one yourself. You disgusting hypocritical megalomaniac. You're nothing but a lost little boy running scared while despising his murdered Muggle father. You make me sick." With that final word, he spat right in Voldemort's face.  
  
Harry watched, amazed, as his most hated professor stared defiantly as the Dark Lord's expression twisted into one that could only be described as pure demonic hate. With a fluid motion, he drew his wand and pointed it directly at Snape's face, screeching, "Crucio Maximus!"  
  
Snape stumbled back and fell down the steps, screaming horribly as his back arched with pain. Voldemort stood with his wand extended directly at the writhing figure. "You insolent fool! You dare to defy me and flaunt it?! Just for that you shall suffer the pains of a thousand hells before you die, slowly and agonizingly! You'll beg for death before I am done! Let this be a lesson to you all." He had to shout above the hideous screams of pain.  
  
Some of the Death Eaters stared impassively, but others looked like they were about to be sick. Voldemort just smirked triumphantly as Snape's convulsions intensified, and blood began to seep from multiple small cuts as his skin tore itself apart.  
  
Harry could not take it anymore. He ran forward with a hoarse "NO!!" and grabbed Snape's shoulders. But as soon as he touched the professor, a white light enveloped him and the scene faded, leaving Harry in familiar territory once again, Lady Death standing before him and the city of the Guardians looming in the background. 


	14. The Beginning of the Middle

Disclaimer: the usual. I don't own them. I just play with them.  
  
A/N: Sorry this took so long. In college we have this thing called homework, and it tends to get in the way of my pleasure writing. After this week I should be able to post a bit more. Usually the wait won't be this long, but I had 3 papers and 2 projects come due. As you will see, I had no intention of killing Snape. Yet. *winks* This chapter is a bit boring, but necessary.  
  
I wasn't too sure about this chapter. *sighs in resignation* I tried hard on the various interactions, so review and tell me how I did. Snape is a complicated character. If you want a wonderful take on his POV, go see Bored Beyond Belief's Never Alone, Never Again.  
  
This is dedicated to Lisa, who aside from being a name sister, has also been taken away by the men in white coats. It's a good thing they restrained you, because the last person who lunged at me ended up . . . well, you get the idea. Your reviews made me cackle maniacally until my roommates were slowly backing out of the room in fear. Yeah, I AM EVIL!!! And proud of it. That's why my name's psychochick. Go read my bio. And besides, 13 is my lucky number.  
  
Chapter 14  
  
Lady Death appeared very surprised once Harry was standing before her again. Actually, more like shocked speechless. And no wonder, for when Harry glanced down at his feet he saw the body of Professor Severus Snape lying there. Thankfully he was no longer twitching, but the alternative was nearly as bad. He was not moving at all, and Harry feared he was dead. He bent down and checked the spy's pulse.  
  
"I, I thought you said it was just a dream," Harry mumbled to Death. She nodded dumbly, and found her voice. "It was, and still is," but she too stared at the body. "That, in all my years, has never happened before. Your consciousness is here, but your physical body is in your realm, sleeping. But he . . . he is actually here, mentally and physically."  
  
"But does that mean . . . he's dead?" Death shook her head. "No. It means somehow your dream self latched onto him and pulled him back with you. You just saved his life." Harry could not believe his ears. "How the hell did I manage that?!" "I have absolutely no idea. But he cannot stay here. You must try and take him back with you when you wake up."  
  
Harry nodded reluctantly and grasped Snape's arm, then concentrated on returning to his realm. The white light surrounded them again, and suddenly Harry sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath. For a wild moment he thought that maybe he had had a bad reaction to the pork at dinner and it was all just a food-poisoning induced hallucination. That hope was shattered when Snape's inert body tumbled onto the floor in a heap next to the bed.  
  
Harry swore quietly and jumped out of bed, yanking on a robe over his boxers as he checked the senseless professor. With a mutter of "Mobilicorpus," he floated him down the hall to another room, magically removing the outer Death Eater robes and settling him in the bed before running downstairs for his supply of potions and Muggle medicines. Grabbing a few select bottles he sprinted back up, but paused outside the room as a thought struck him.  
  
Despite his words earlier, Harry sincerely doubted that Snape would be very pleased to wake up in the care of Harry Potter. But if he thought he was Wraith . . . Harry quickly transfigured into his alter ego and entered the room. Luckily Snape was still out cold for the moment, his breathing a bit shallow but with a strong pulse. He had not been under the curse for too long fortunately.  
  
Harry set about getting him to swallow a couple of potions, then began cleaning and healing the numerous cuts that had erupted all over his body. By the time he was finished, the unexpected patient looked much better, even with the perpetually unwashed hair, and sleeping soundly. Harry made a note to wash the pillows later as he yawned and glanced at the clock. With a groan he realized it was almost 4 in the morning and he was dead tired. He dragged himself back to his own room and instantly fell asleep on the bed again, this time without dreams.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Snape stirred awake and his eyes snapped open. Where was he? The last thing he could recall was the unbearable pain, then a flash of bright light. He had welcomed it, thinking he had finally earned the death he almost longed for. No such luck. He glanced around, noting the unfamiliar but comfortable furnishings even as he felt the lingering aches from the curse, clearly telling him that he was still alive. A noise at the door drew his attention, and he turned his head as a familiar young man walked in.  
  
Snape goggled at the wizard. "How . . . what . . . what happened?" Wraith pushed him back down as he tried to sit up. "Easy. Don't move just yet. Voldemort discovered you were a spy last night and tortured you. I managed to pull you out in time. Here, drink this, it'll help." He pressed a bottle of some irritatingly pink potion into the professor's hand. Snape grimaced but downed the whole thing, ignoring the acrid and bitter taste from something that looked like a bubblegum milkshake.  
  
"Do you remember now?" Snape nodded a bit as last night's events poured into his brain, and Wraith chuckled with genuine amusement glittering in his eyes. "That was probably one of the gutsiest, yet stupidest displays I've ever seen. When you spat in Voldemort's face, man, you could have sold tickets to that." That caused the spy to grin, albeit somewhat reservedly. Then he sobered up again. "Why did you save me?"  
  
Wraith looked at him calculatingly. "The same reason you saved me with the antidote. And that was the reason you almost died last night, so I guess I felt it was my duty to save you this time." He stood. "You should rest. Let the potion do its work." With that he walked out. Snape settled down into the blankets once again and sleep reclaimed him into her embrace within minutes.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Outside the door Wraith leaned against the wall and sighed as his features morphed back into Harry. *That was too weird. Snape was being human, to me! And he is in my house.* He shook his head in disbelief. *I hope he can leave before tomorrow night. I have enough to explain as it is.* Still musing over the surreal situation, he wandered downstairs for breakfast.  
  
"Morning sunshine!" a bright voice chirped. Eva was already in the kitchen munching some toast while reading the paper. Harry just grunted noncommittally, not in the mood for her antics this morning. She looked up to meet his eyes. "I heard noises last night. What happened this time?"  
  
Harry grimaced and began telling her about the dream and Snape's rescue as he scrounged up something to eat. However, he neglected to mention Death's part in the whole affair; something inside told him not to, and he trusted his instincts. Eva sat there with her mouth open when he finished.  
  
"That's amazing! I've never heard of that ever happening before in any realm." She grinned, her eyes glittering. "And now you've got your most despised professor under your roof. Have you tried to poison him yet?" Harry snorted into his cereal. "Eva, he saved my life, I saved his. He's under my roof, so no poisoning, pranks, or practical jokes," he said a bit sternly. "In fact, I don't think you should see him at all. He thinks I'm Wraith and that's how it's going to stay. He just has to leave before tomorrow night."  
  
Eva nodded in understanding, looking a bit disappointed but still with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. She changed the subject. "You ready to get your butt whooped again? Or are you too tired from dreaming about Snape?" Her pupil looked disgusted but with a small amount of amused challenge. "You have the most twisted mind I've ever met. Any butt whooping today is going to be on you, dear." She stood and pulled him to his feet. "Then c'mon hotshot, put your muscles where your mouth is."  
  
They raced each other down to the training room, Harry with his longer legs outdistancing Eva. As soon as they stepped across the threshold, she tackled him from behind and they went tumbling head over heels. They landed with Eva on top, straddling him and hands reaching for the pressure points on his neck. Harry slapped her hands away and twisted his hips sharply, dumping her onto the floor, then proceeded to roll on top of her, pinning her down with his body weight while reaching for the same pressure points.  
  
Eva retaliated by thrusting a knee up sharply, but fortunately for him missed her intended target and got him in the stomach. He curled up slightly with an "oof!" allowing her to wiggle free and roll to the opposite side of the mat. In seconds, they were both on their feet and circling, then simultaneously sprang at each other to meet in the center in a bone-crushing tackle.  
  
The next few minutes continued in much the same manner, and Harry learned fast that this type of fighting meant no mercy whatsoever. Soon trainer and pupil were both covered in bruises and blood, but they ignored their injuries and pain as they grappled fiercely. It was quickly apparent that Eva was more imaginative and sneaky with this, and while Harry held his own for a while and got in some good shots, she dominated. She had him on the ground when suddenly she tangled him up in a wrestling hold that resembled a human pretzel, hoisted him above her head in an impressive military press and threw him against the far wall. The pretzel broke as he hit the wall to splatter spread-eagled like a bug, then he slumped to the floor, momentarily stunned.  
  
Eva stood over him, smirking. "American Muggles have his wonderful invention call WWF on the tele. It's basically the most brutal yet the most staged brand of publicly endorsed fighting you can find. Kind of like Jerry Springer, but with better costumes. Of course, if you don't rehearse it beforehand you can really hurt someone. It might help you to watch a few matches before we spar next time." Harry glared at her. "You must watch a lot of it in your spare time." "Not really, I actually prefer hockey. More blood."  
  
Harry rolled over with a groan. "I can see why they didn't want you to teach me this. So why now?" She suddenly frowned. "I had intended all along to teach you, but I needed you to put some space mentally and spatially between your training and your uncle." He looked surprised; he had forgotten all about Vernon's beating. "Exactly. If I had shown you this the first time around, you would've forever associated it with that disgusting pig, and that would've held you back. Psychology is just as important as physical battles. Look at how well Voldemort uses it. People are still scared of his name."  
  
Harry checked his watch. "I need to go check on Snape. He should be waking up at any time now. I think we're done here for now. Besides," a twinkle returned to his eye, "I want to go for a spin on my bike." He pushed himself to his feet and headed for the door as she giggled. As he passed her though, he administered a swift kick to the back of the knee, which sent her sprawling on the mat, then ran before she could get up. Her cursing followed him up the stairs. "Never let your guard down!" he called playfully back.  
  
Chuckling, he ran up to Snape's bedroom and entered as Wraith to find the professor wide awake. "Feel better?" "Much." "Good. Bathroom's through here, there are extra robes in the wardrobe here if you don't want your old ones, and the kitchen is downstairs to the left. Feel free to help yourself to anything there." Wraith smiled and left again to give the man privacy, this time heading for the front door. The Black Shadow was just where he had left it, on the covered front porch. He had grabbed his black leather trenchrobe this time and pulled it one before mounting the bike and zooming off.  
  
Harry loved to fly, whether on a broomstick, car, motorcycle, as a phoenix, whatever. But this motorcycle had a thrill all its own, especially when tearing down a winding road in the middle of nowhere at around 200 km/hr. He could not help the grin that spread across his face as he again used a cliff as his runway and flew up into the air. This machine had power to it and he exalted in it, pushing it to the limits. He had not felt this alive in a long time, what with staring death in the face almost every night in one form or another. It felt so good to just take some time to live.  
  
All too soon he realized he had to return and check on Snape. Who knows what sort of mischief the Potions Master could get up to? He grinned as he reluctantly kicked the Shadow back around and flew back to his house to land on the front lawn again. The sooner the professor was out to the house the better.  
  
Wheeling the Shadow up onto the porch, he sauntered toward the kitchen while he stripped off his trenchrobe, mentally congratulating himself on keeping up the Wraith persona. Then he stopped dead in his tracks at the scene before him, shock freezing him. Snape was in the kitchen, curiously inspecting the IMP which was glowing blue. Now Harry was mentally kicking himself. *Why did I leave that out? Should've known it would cause trouble. Oh please don't let him touch that.* He composed himself and said casually "Lovely day, isn't it?"  
  
Snape looked up, slightly startled. He had not heard anyone come in. "Yes, it is. I was just about to eat breakfast when this parchment started glowing. Fascinating. Albus has one just like it, but he never told me what it does." Before Wraith could intervene, the ex-Death Eater touched the parchment, and a message began scrawling across it at lightning speed.  
  
It was from Ron. "Hey Harry, good to hear from you. FINALLY! Anyway, tomorrow night sounds great. My whole family can come, and Hermione too. Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus said to tell you they are coming too. I hope you have enough food! Oh, and Remus is bringing his girlfriend if that's okay. Can you believe it? What's worse, it's Professor Figg! Oh, sorry, she says to call her Arabella when we're not at school. That's just too weird. Hope you're okay, and we'll see you tomorrow." Ron's messy signature could be seen at the bottom.  
  
Snape read it with his eyes wide, then slitted in thought. Wraith thought fast and reached over, grabbed the parchment and frowned. "That isn't mine. So where did I put it?" he pretended with astonishment. Walking outside as if searching, he picked up a stray leaf by the hammock, transfiguring it into a parchment in a heartbeat before reentering the house. "I left mine outside, so Harry must have left his here by accident," he lied smoothly.  
  
Snape looked as if he had just bitten into something incredibly sour. "Potter has been here?" Wraith shrugged. "A few times. He was over yesterday to help me with one of my projects, and he brought that over so he could message his friends." "You know where he is?" "Yeah, I helped arrange his summer house. We keep in touch." Snape turned away at that and began fixing himself toast and tea. When he had sat down, Wraith inquired, "Why do you hate Harry so much?"  
  
Snape pursed his thin lips. "It's a long story." Wraith eyed him. "I've got time." The ex-spy glared at the young man across from him and saw the determined glint in his eyes, so he sighed and began to speak. "I actually don't hate him, per se." Wraith managed to control his outward reaction to a simple raised eyebrow even as his insides keeled over in shock. He settled in for the long haul. "It starts long before he was born. When I was at Hogwarts, his father James and his friends formed a group called the Marauders. Their sole purpose in life seemed to be to play pranks just to irritate everyone and congratulate themselves on their daring. They loved to target us Slytherins, and me in particular." He scowled deeply at the memories, but continued.  
  
"I worked hard, but James was the star. Head Boy, Quidditch captain, hero of the school, heartthrob and an insufferable prat." He snorted. "But despite what I'd like to believe, he didn't care about the glory. I might have hated him less if he had, but no. He was happiest when he was with his friends and Lily. She was one of the prettiest girls in the school, and he was the lucky bastard that won her heart." Snape glanced away, seeing the distant past play in his memories.  
  
"The worst part is, he saved my life. Lupin's a werewolf, and his friends were protecting his secret. I saw him one night go out to the Whooping Willow on the grounds and disappear into a tunnel. Black told me the trick to getting there is by prodding a knot with a stick, and it would freeze the tree. Well, I tried it, but when I was almost at the end of the tunnel, James showed up.  
  
"He pulled me back and practically hauled me out of there. Lupin had already transformed and if I had gone any farther, the wolf would have killed me, or worse." Snape drew a deep breath. "James had saved my life, and to make it worse he didn't think it was a big deal. He never acted like I owed him anything for it, and in fact had a huge fight with Black over the whole incident.  
  
"After school, nothing changed. He married Lily, the prettiest and smartest girl in our year. His friends stuck by him through everything. They had the perfect marriage, the perfect life, the perfect careers as the two bloody best Aurors in Europe. And I," he shook his head, "I became a Death Eater. Upheld the family name for the Dark Side, sought after knowledge and power the Dark Lord promised. And what did I find?" Snape curled back his lip in a snarl.  
  
"That I was only a slave, to a delusional murdering megalomaniac. I hated him, and I hated the Potters for it. It took a few years, actually, until the McKinnons . . ." he swallowed hard and appeared to be pushing back some dark memories, "but then I started thinking about everything. Lily had always been kind to me, even when I called her a Mudblood. She had even been my Charms tutor. James risked his life to save mine, and then here I was wasting my life following Voldemort. They had everything, and I ended up with nothing. Then came the news that one of Potter's friends had turned on them, and was passing information to the Dark Lord."  
  
Snape took a sip of his tea and sighed. "Lily had a baby boy shortly after that, Harry, and something happened that made Voldemort obsessed with killing the Potters, something to do with the boy. At that point I knew I couldn't stand it any more. I went to Dumbledore and begged forgiveness, promising to help him if he could keep me out of Azkaban. He placed a lot of trust in me, and sent me back as a spy. We let James and Lily know the Dark Lord was after them, and that someone close was a traitor."  
  
Here Snape managed to sneer and look sorrowful at the same time. "Personally I thought it was Lupin. A werewolf can never be trusted. I wasn't very surprised when Black was arrested though. He always had a vicious temper and was a borderline Slytherin. He loved sneaking around, made a good if unpredictable Auror. But Pettigrew," he shook his greasy head. "I should have suspected. He only joined the Marauders because they were the strongest Gryffindors and could protect him. I didn't actually believe it until last year, after the TriWizard Tournament. I rejoined the Death Eaters, and Pettigrew, or Wormtail, stood right next to a reborn Voldemort. The little coward," he snarled.  
  
"But I digress. When I saw Harry for the first time, he was a pint-sized celebrity in the spitting image of his dad. The Boy Who Lived, savior of the wizarding world, Quidditch hero for Gryffindor and youngest Seeker in a century, and all around troublemaker. I assumed he had grown up spoiled beyond belief by those Muggles, weaned on stories of his father's antics and his mother's perfection."  
  
He sneered at the memory, lips curling like they did so often in class. "I decided that I would show him that not everybody was going to hand him everything on a silver platter and treat him with kid gloves. Yet every time I looked at him I remembered my debt to James which I never had the chance to repay. So while on one hand I punished Harry whenever I could, I also worked to save his life."  
  
Snape sighed, a bit regretful, a strange sound to anyone who knew the Potions Master. "I was wrong about the Muggles though. I was part of the Death Eater force sent to kidnap Potter from his house. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was locked up in the smallest bedroom with little furniture and no decorations. His uncle had beaten the shit out of him, to put it bluntly, and there was blood everywhere. After he disappeared, Dumbledore told me more about his childhood. Harry used to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, his relatives barely fed him and used him as a house elf, and one time the Weasleys had to rescue him in the middle of the night because the Muggles had locked him up and starved him. He never knew about his parents until Hagrid was sent to fetch him. And that son of theirs, Dudley, was the spoiled whale of the family." He sighed again, "Here I was, judging Harry for my assumptions, and he got enough of that crap back home."  
  
He snorted and drank another sip of tea. "Just to prove me wrong even further, when he disappeared he was trained to use his powers and abilities as a blood heir, which let him achieve the level of Grand master war mage and the Phoenix Lord. Yet somehow after he told us, the memories of the others were blocked. He kept a low profile and tried not to draw that much attention to his powers, and never mentioned it again. No one suspects anything, except I believe Granger and Weasley know. He hates living in a spotlight, hates his fame. So now I don't have a reason to hate him anymore. But I can't just change overnight the behavior I've shown him for the past five years."  
  
Snape looked away and asked quietly, rhetorically, "How do you tell a student you've loathed that suddenly you don't really hate him, you respect him for what he does?"  
  
All through this recitation Wraith sat there, listening and keeping his face expressionless even as the words shocked him. Actually shock is too mild a word. If epiphanies are often described as being hit by lightning, then this little revelation was having the grandmother of all lightning bolts strike him while simultaneously having the moon land on his head. His thoughts were jumbled up, racing by and crashing into each other like a flock of deranged owls in a hurricane. For long minutes both men sat in silence, contemplating Snape's words.  
  
Finally Wraith made a decision. "I think you did a good job." When the Potions Master glanced up, startled, Harry let his disguise drop and stared back with his own green eyes. Snape's black eyes widened with shock and recognition. After a long moment, Harry reached across the table with his hand extended. "Thank you. For my life. And the truth," he said quietly.  
  
Snape stared at the hand, then slowly his features softened and he even gave a very small smile. He extended his own hand and they shook. "Thank you, for my life and your honesty." Harry grinned at that. "Now we're even." Snape chuckled dryly and shook his head. "No one will ever believe this." "I won't tell if you won't."  
  
Snape appraised him critically. "So you are Wraith. But how did you manage to not miss a single class all year? Some of the attacks were during the day." "Same way Voldemort 'kidnapped' me from the Dursleys," he said with a conspiratorial grin. "Ah, you used the clone." "Yep. Harry stays in the spotlight while Wraith works in the shadows. It was a bit tricky at times, but it had its fun moments too. Like the knife juggling." Harry laughed at the memory, and Snape snickered too. "Madame Pomfrey wasn't too pleased."  
  
"Speaking of that, what did you add to my potion?" Snape looked vaguely irritated still, and Harry decided to actually answer him this time. "I always keep a few bottles of phoenix tears and various healing potions on me when I'm Wraith. Taken separately the tears would've slowed the poison, but when mixed with the antidote it catalyzed it to react with my metabolism to speed up the healing process. And not just from the poison. I was lucky," he added ruefully. "Fawkes was there to help slow the poison until you had the antidote. Without both of you I would have died."  
  
Thinking back to that night, a question occurred to the professor. "Do you know the plant kingsfoil?" Harry glanced at him curiously. "Actually, yes. I grow some out in my garden. Why?" "It's very rare and damn near impossible to find, but it has some amazing properties to it. If I had had some that night, I wouldn't have needed to brew anything." Harry stood. "Well then let's go see if it's mature enough to pick."  
  
The two strolled out to the garden and began inspecting the small leaves growing at the base of the far wall. "Looks like they need about another week or so before they're ready. I'll send you some then." "I'd appreciate that. By the way, how did you get this house?" Snape gestured behind him at the grounds and structure. "It rivals some manor houses I know, including the Malfoy's."  
  
Harry laughed at that. "I didn't realize that. I bought this property and built the house in my spare time, with a little help. Would you like a quick tour? The entire house is magical and rooms can be expanded, added or removed when needed." Harry proceeded to show off his home, working their way top to bottom.  
  
Eventually they found Eva, who was still working out in the weapons room downstairs, battling three practice dummies with a katana. She stopped when she saw the undisguised Harry with Snape and ran over. Grinning widely, she appraised the Potions Master. "Hello, are you feeling better this morning? Or actually it's afternoon by now. Time flies when you're having fun kicking the stuffing out of these dummies. You're lucky, Harry ordered me not to initiate you into my personal prank list. Too bad, I could have some fun with just that hair of yours. And from what I've heard . . ."  
  
Harry chuckled and shook his head at her hyperactive ramblings. "Professor, this is my trainer Eva. She's only this worked up when she's sparring. Something about the endorphin levels affecting her brain chemistry." Eva favored him with a mock glare and said, "Have you shown him the lab yet? When you do, don't touch the stuff on table three, that's my little project and you'll just mess it up. If you do, I'll be forced to eviscerate you with the silverware."  
  
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, waved cheerily at Snape before dashing back to her sparring. Harry led the slightly stunned professor out of the room. "I can see what you mean when you said she takes some getting used to. What is this lab she was talking about?" Harry explained, "The lab is what she insists on calling my Potions room. Right over here." The door swung open automatically at their approach, and Snape stepped into his idea of heaven.  
  
There were six separate worktables with a selection of cauldron sizes, cutting boards, knives, pestles and mortars, ladles, scales, bottles and bowls neatly arranged along one wall. Another wall was covered with shelves of labeled ingredients in alphabetical order, and a big wash area stood in the center. The room was well-ventilated and -lit, and the far wall was a giant bookcase stacked with what seemed like every book and tome on potions ever written.  
  
Snape gaped in open-mouthed astonishment and delight as Harry briefly inspected the goop bubbling in one cauldron, then checked the next table before slicing up some ginger root, mixing them with a strange red liquid and pouring it into the potion. He stirred for a moment; the potion hissed and turned a nasty brownish color. Snape snapped out of his trance and stepped over to investigate. Harry explained without looking up, "I use several different poisons on my darts, arrows, and knives, so I brew them all by hand. This particular one I invented during my training. It simulates the effects of a prank Eva once pulled on me, but with a slightly harsher ending. Namely paralysis and incredible pain."  
  
He glanced slyly over at the Potions Master. "I can't wait to introduce Sirius to Eva. I think they'll get along splendidly." He laughed as Snape shuddered in absolute horror. "That would be a greater evil than . . . than . . ." The professor seemed lost for an adequate analogy, so Harry cheerfully helped him out. "Than Voldemort in a leotard and pink tutu?"  
  
Snape gagged at that mental image. "That is just . . . wrong . . . on so many levels." He glared incredulously at his grinning student. "I cannot believe you just said that. Even with your father's and Black's influence." Harry just shrugged. "Eva corrupted me. She can be pretty demented at times." Snape glanced at him sideways through narrowed eyes, deciding to bait him a bit. "So, she's staying here with you?" "For now, yes." "You two seem pretty close. She's not sleeping in your bed, is she?"  
  
He fought to keep a straight face as Harry turned to him in horror. His mean old Potions professor asking about his sex life?! "I cannot believe you just asked that!" Snape shrugged dismissively. "Well, when you said she corrupted you, that could mean . . ." Harry cut him off before that train of thought could go any further. "You're disgusting, you know that?" He shook his head sharply, looking pained and revolted. Snape finally allowed the grin to unfurl across his face. "One good turn deserves another, don't you think?" He began laughing when he saw Harry's glare.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Later that afternoon, seated in the living room Harry asked, "So what are you going to do about the rest of the summer? I bet the Death Eaters are searching for you, most likely spying on your house." Snape nodded. "I've already planned for this since last summer. After I report to Dumbledore, they're moving me to a safe house the Order set up in Muggle London." He grimaced briefly. "Good thing it's only a few weeks before the new Hogwarts term, because the safe house is completely cut off."  
  
Harry, on impulse, summoned an extra sheet of parchment, a small bottle of a blue liquid and his wand. He sprinkled a bit of potion onto the parchment, held his wand to it and muttered a few words in Latin. He set it to the side, explaining, "I've just made what I call an IMP, or instant messenger parchment. That's what you saw earlier. You write on yours to a person with one, and messages are instantly brought up when you touch it. Usually you have to say "send" or "receive," but I've modified it recently. In about three hours this one will be done. Right now it's locating and hooking up to the others. I doubt you'll want to talk to Ron or Hermione, but Mr. Weasley, Dumbledore, Sirius, and Remus all have one. That way you're not completely out of touch."  
  
Snape considered the gift with a slight trace of both appreciation and suspicion. "It's untraceable?" "Completely." "How will I explain where I got it?" "Blame it on Wraith, that's what I always do. Imaginary friends are very useful sometimes." Harry grinned cheekily as Snape glared askance at him and sneered, "Sometimes you have the maturity level of a five year old." "Only on my good days."  
  
Harry changed the subject. "When do you need to report back?" "Probably as soon as possible. Dumbledore's already worried about me, and I have to inform him that my position's been compromised." "Well, whenever you need to hide out for awhile, I always have room. And I know you want to play in the lab." Snape actually blushed a bit at that. "How about this: you can go play to your heart's content for the next three hours. By them the IMP will be finished, and I can make you a Portkey to send you to Hogwarts. Just don't touch table three, or Eva might kill you."  
  
They exchanged smiles before Snape practically ran downstairs, except that running is too undignified for him, so he stalked quickly. *Like a kid in a candy store* Harry chuckled to himself before going to find something to transform into a Portkey to Hogwarts.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Snape left later that afternoon, clutching a few bottles of freshly-brewed potions and parchments of copied recipes. Still a bit weirded out at the sharp turnaround of behavior from his professor, Harry went for a quick ride on the Shadow before joining Eva for dinner and sparring. Eva also convinced him into a little dance session, which was actually more tiring than the hand to hand combat.  
  
The next morning after breakfast and another physical lesson, Harry had to put up with Eva's input on the dinner menu for that night; for some odd reason she was extremely energetic, bouncing around like a five year old with candy, and wanted to add cayenne pepper to most of the dishes. This was strange behavior even for her, and he wondered what in Merlin's beard was going on. First Snape, now Eva. Next thing you know, Voldemort would suddenly declare that he was the Easter Bunny.  
  
Harry shook his head at that thought and got back to his planning. He was trying to decide between two different entrees when suddenly his scar flashed with unbearable pain. It cut right to the center of his brain, paralyzing and blinding him in its intensity as he collapsed to the ground, moaning. He briefly heard Eva shouting his name before the world faded from his senses and blackness embraced him.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Harry found himself standing in near pure darkness. The surface under his feet rippled like water as he stepped forward uncertainly, but felt stronger than stone. The space around was black and empty, no life anywhere as far as he could see from horizon to horizon. He was instantly alert; searching for whatever it was that had drawn him here. He could hear his own heart beating, but otherwise a cold silence prevailed.  
  
Abruptly a familiar laugh rang out behind him, and Harry spun around, a chill running down his spine as he tried to find the source of that laughter. "My, you certainly have grown since we last met," the high cold voice said mockingly. "Show yourself," Harry ordered firmly. Another chuckle, then "Very well." Harry came face to face with Voldemort.  
  
The Dark Lord stood there with a derisive smile on his face. He gestured around. "Do you like it? One of many new tricks I have learned since my rebirth. This one is called a Dream Stand. Thanks to the connections we share, I can summon you here whenever I want, and what happens here also has an affect on the real world. Fascinating, no?"  
  
Harry just glared at him, pure fire dancing in his eyes. "What do you want, you snake-face bastard?" "My my, such manners. What would your mother think of such rude behavior?" Harry snarled, "Thanks to you, I don't have the opportunity to find out. Why did you bring me here?" Voldemort just shook his head in mock sadness. "That temper of yours is going to get you into trouble someday. I merely wished to show off my latest talent to someone I knew could appreciate it. And to conduct a test run of sorts." The glowing red eyes assessed the young man. "Crucio!"  
  
Harry fell, writhing in pain but refusing to scream and give Voldemort the satisfaction. He tried to remember Eva's lessons on pain. "It's all in your mind, it's not actually real. Pain is your body telling your mind that something is wrong, but your body doesn't feel it. The brain does. Find the part of your mind that senses the pain and block it out. Build mental walls around it, force yourself to ignore it, and pain will no longer be an obstacle." He started focusing, pushing the agony aside, and the pain began to fade. Before he had entirely succeeded, the curse lifted.  
  
Voldemort was laughing again, but there was no wand in sight. "Tell me young Harry, did that hurt? I am keeping a record of my successful experiments, and a quote from you would be nice." Harry finished putting up the last of his mental blocks before slowly climbing to his feet. Voldemort paced back and forth in front of him, a parody of a lecturer. "It is interesting that wand magic is completely useless here. A normal witch or wizard would be as helpless as a Muggle. But we are not normal, are we?"  
  
He smirked. "Yes, so many similarities. I wonder, have you mastered wandless magic as I have? You have the capabilities to." Harry said nothing. "Stubborn, aren't you? No matter." The smirk transmuted into an evil grin. "Let's have a duel, and we shall see what new abilities you have mastered since our last meeting. Don't worry, I won't kill you. Yet."  
  
Immediately Voldemort shot out his hand and cast another Cruciatus curse, but Harry dodged it. Another curse flew at him, so he dove off to the side. This pattern repeated itself for the next several curses, and Voldemort was getting frustrated. "You can't keep dodging forever boy. There are no Portkeys to rescue you this time." Harry realized that he was right, but he wanted to keep the extent of his abilities hidden until the time came. He finally cast a wandless curse at his opponent, but made it weaker than he could. Only if this turned critical would he unleash his full strength.  
  
The Dark Lord just stepped to the side in contempt as the curse flew by him, and muttered scornfully, "Pathetic. I expected more from you." He threw several curses in quick succession, but Harry established a Shield charm so they ricocheted off. From there the duel intensified, curses shooting out and reflected or dodged, until Harry was suddenly distracted by a strange glow off to the side, just catching his peripheral vision.  
  
His lapse in concentration cost him, for Voldemort threw another Cruciatus at him. This time the pain flared up, but was quickly stifled and ignored, and Harry remained on his feet. Instinctively he threw back a powerful curse, the same one he had used in Azkaban during the talisman fight to meld the flesh of the legs together. Voldemort fell over in shock and pain, but screeched "Crucio Maximus!" from his prone position on the ground.  
  
This time the agony of the curse managed to overwhelm his mental blocks, and Harry barely held back a scream as he convulsed, all his nerves firing off at once, crushing, twisting, stretching, freezing, burning him simultaneously. He fought for focus, to slam the mental blocks back into place and make it stop.  
  
Finally the curse lifted, and Harry lay there panting for breath. Voldemort had undone the melding curse and approached, crouching down and half lifting him up by his collar. "Your skills have grown Potter, but you are no match for me. Now I know you know about the talismans. I will make you a deal. You join me and accept the Dark Mark. Together we will find the talisman and power beyond imagining will be ours. Immortality will be in our grasp. In exchange, I promise I will spare your friends."  
  
Harry did not even have to think about it. "Go to hell!" and taking a cue from Snape, spat viciously in Voldemort's skull-white face. That face transformed into a grotesque mask of unadulterated rage and hate. He hissed venomously, "You think you can defeat me still, but you are wrong. I offered you a chance no one else could ever enjoy, but you chose death instead. I may not be able to kill you here, but I can make you suffer until you beg for death!" One long white finger came up and pressed firmly onto the scar on Harry's forehead.  
  
Harry's screams could have wakened the dead. Pain from the earlier curses was like kissing a pretty girl compared to this. His head threatened to split open to release the drills and ice picks thrusting into his brain. His eyes clenched tightly shut as his back arched up and locked like a strung bow, bright starbursts erupting behind his eyelids. Muscles went rigid similar to electrocution, his whole body stiffened, he could not move, could not think, could not breathe. All he knew were the unbelievable shocks of pain coursing all through his body and the pressure on his scar.  
  
He felt a warm sticky liquid running down his cheek; his scar had split open and blood poured out. *Make it stop make it stop make it stop!* He pried his eyes open to slits, trying to make his muscles cooperate so he could tear himself from Voldemort's grasp. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the unearthly glow from before, now drawing nearer. Desperate, Harry wrenched his head to the side violently, knocking Voldemort's finger away.  
  
The pain stopped and he could move again. With another wrench he loosened the grip on his collar, and brought up a hand to twist the wrist still grasping the fabric. Squeezing, he felt a sharp pop as bones in Voldemort's hand and wrist snapped under the pressure, then he shoved back with all his might. With a yell of pain, Harry was free. He rolled stiffly towards the light, and he heard the Dark Lord's scream of fury just before he vanished.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Silence again surrounded him, but this time the air was far from empty. Instead it throbbed with power and magic, and Harry instantly knew where he was: Back in the shadow realm, outside the ancient city of the Guardians. He breathed a shaky sigh of relief even as his body protested against any movement at all. He was perfectly willing to just lie there and breathe, but footsteps resounded in the earth under his head, signaling the approach of another being.  
  
He groaned softly and reluctantly opened his eyes to find himself looking up into Death's lovely face. She appeared concerned. "Harry, what happened? What are you doing here? I did not summon you." Harry began to tell her everything, from the initial arrival in the Dream Stand to the weird glow that transported him. She helped him sit up as he spoke, and eventually he was able to stand on his own slightly shaky legs. Death pursed her lips as he finished his tale, deep in thought.  
  
"This was most unexpected. His powers are growing faster than I thought. Although I confess I do believe you have some untapped abilities yourself. That is the only way to explain your last two episodes here. You must have called that light to yourself to rescue you, and your professor last night. That is good, for now you have an escape out of the Dream Stand if he should ever call you again. Very well," Death turned to go, "you must be off, and so must I."  
  
Harry, thinking about a question that had been bothering him for awhile and had occurred to him during the duel, quickly called out, "Wait!" Death turned to look at him. "I have a question that's been bugging me. Why did Voldemort want to kill me in the first place?" She stared at him, and unless he was quite mistaken, she was shocked. "I know about the Prophecy, with the blood of the four and Merlin's heir. But that's not right, because I only inherited Slytherin's blood when Voldemort failed to kill me." Death shook herself and said shortly, "Follow me," and stalked gracefully into the city.  
  
They passed by elegant buildings and sweeping avenues to the heart of the city where the archives were stored. She led him deep underground, beneath millions of years of collected records and research, to a tiny room devoid of any furnishings. The rock walls and low ceiling gave the impression of being trapped in a cave, especially once Death closed and locked the wooden door.  
  
She sat on the floor, and once Harry was seated across from her, began to speak. "No one has ever told you about the day you were born?" He shook his head. "The actual delivery was normal, completely within Nature's plan. However, events transpired later that evening that Voldemort somehow found out about. This is what made you special, even before you became the Boy Who Lived. Fortunately your parents and Dumbledore hid this from everyone, even your godfather, in order to protect you and them. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you what happened."  
  
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Words cannot properly describe it. I must show you instead." Death reached out to touch his forehead, but as soon as she made contact an electric shock ran through him, painful in its intensity. Harry hissed in pain, and she withdrew her hand. "I am sorry, but we cannot continue now. You are still recovering from the Dream Stand. When you are whole again, you shall see."  
  
Death and the room faded away, leaving Harry in the darkness of oblivion. He fought against it, desperately searching for the light. He could faintly hear a voice calling his name, and he followed the sound, letting it guide him back to consciousness. He cracked open his eyes and Eva's concerned face swam into view. *What is it with me and waking up to beautiful faces?* He almost smirked, but the look she was giving him convinced him not to push his luck right now.  
  
"Harry, what the hell happened? You just fell over and took a nap with your eyes open, then you started twitching and screaming and your scar bled all over the place. I couldn't contact you mentally either. I had to drag your sorry ass upstairs to bed and clean you up." She took a deep breath to calm herself, and then asked again, "What happened?"  
  
Harry swallowed around a dry throat and winced, then began describing again the Dream Stand. For some reason he decided to keep any mention of Death and the shadow realm to himself for now, and instead skipped to where he heard Eva calling him back. She shook her head in sadness and helped him drink the same potion he had given Snape earlier. It took away most of the aches left in his body, but his scar still burned fiercely and induced a pounding headache.  
  
Now he could see clearly again and noticed the sweat-soaked and bloodstained sheets thrown about, and his present state of partial undress. His shirt lay on the floor next to his boots, also coated in sweat and blood, and he was currently wearing only the running shorts he had neglected to change out of after his workout. Harry began to blush and protest, but Eva cut him off with "It's not like you have anything I haven't seen before. Relax. Listen, we have two hours until your guests arrive. You take a nap, then shower and make yourself presentable. Meanwhile, I'll take care of dinner, and I promise I won't poison anyone. Okay?" He nodded tiredly and sank back into his pillows as she tucked him in, and was soon asleep. 


	15. Birthday Party

Disclaimer: the usual. Not mine. Song belongs to Enya.  
  
Chapter 15  
  
The entire Weasley family gathered in the living room with Hermione and the three IMPs they had at 5:50 on the evening of August 9th. With 9 people, each parchment would transport three each with their birthday gifts for Harry. Everyone was excited to finally see him and his new house, and Ginny in particular was fidgety and anxious. Ron knew his younger sister had had a crush on Harry ever since his first year, but thought that had fizzled out over a year ago. He hoped it did not decide to resurface now. *Like he doesn't have enough going on without my baby sister crushing on him again.*  
  
At 20 seconds to 6 pm they all touched a parchment, which had begun flashing a dark blue unlike the normal sky blue for messages. Then precisely as the clock struck six, all 9 people felt a tug behind their navel and disappeared in a whirl of color. Unnoticed, all the hands on the family clock joined Harry's in spinning around without pausing.  
  
Ron landed hard and almost tumbled into Fred, but caught himself in time. He helped Hermione to her feet and looked around. They were standing on a deserted moor somewhere up in the highlands. There was no human presence for miles around. Suddenly four more people popped into existence close by, each clutching a parchment. Remus with Arabella, Sirius and Dumbledore all looked windblown and confused when they saw no sign of Harry.  
  
George cursed softly so his mum would not hear him. "Where the bloody hell are we?" "Are you sure the Portkeys were correct?" Ginny asked nervously, glancing around at the empty landscape. Sirius glared suspiciously at his parchment when suddenly it began flashing blue again. In fact, all of them did. He touched it and read the single line of text. "Walk forward twenty paces." He stared for a second, then shrugged and started pacing off, everyone following a second behind him.  
  
The instant he reached twenty, Sirius felt a strange sensation run through him, as if he had just touched an electric wire. Behind him the Weasleys gasped and Remus called out, "Sirius?! Where'd you go?" Sirius frowned and turned around to face them. "Are you blind? I'm right here, not two meters in front of you." "You disappeared. Why can't we see you?" Sirius considered the weird feeling he had just experienced. "There's some sort of magical barrier between us. Just walk straight ahead."  
  
With some trepidation Remus did so, holding Arabella's hand and with Ron right behind them. Soon they had all crossed the barrier, and once they looked up they gaped open-mouthed at the sight before them. Sirius had not noticed it before, and now he wondered how he could have missed it.  
  
Where there was once an empty moor now stood a magnificent house over four stories tall, with a couple of small towers and three chimneys. A Quidditch pitch was visible off to the left, the golden hoops a dead giveaway. Over a wall to the left some branches and hanging vines gave an indication of a garden even more extensive then those at the Minister's mansion. On the covered front porch framed by the double doors stood Harry Potter, chuckling at their reactions.  
  
"Welcome to my summer home!" He gestured expansively with a theatrical flourish that the twins no doubt taught him, and then ran down the walk to his surrogate family, grinning broadly. Smile of relief lit everyone's faces to see him apparently happy and healthy. *He's grown again* Sirius noted briefly as he wrapped his godson in a massive hug. Harry had shot up another inch or so, put on some muscle mass through his arms and shoulders while still maintaining his lithe, slender build, and his black hair, once perpetually messy, now hung to his feet tied back into a think braid.  
  
Bill saw that and grinned to his mother. "And you think my hair's getting too long." Molly Weasley just shook her head in defeat and stepped forward to embrace Harry. "It's so good to see you again. You had us worried." "Yeah mate, she was having kittens over you. And happy belated birthday." The twins greeted him simultaneously with a flourish. "We come bearing gifts." Harry laughed. "Well come on inside." He led the way into the house.  
  
"I hope you guys came hungry," he added as they deposited the present in the sitting room. "I've planned a great dinner, and Eva's spent all afternoon cooking." "Eva's here? You let her cook?" "And you're not helping her?!" Ron and Hermione instantly started babbling off questions, while the rest of the group looked confused. "Who's Eva?" Sirius asked, bemused. Harry quieted the torrent of questions, then invisibly removed the memory blocks on the Order members, not in the mood to retell everything quite yet. "Eva is my trainer. Yes, she's here and you can finally meet her. As for dinner, she's rather . . . territorial when cooking." Seeing their faces, he added with a grin, "She kicked me out of the kitchen."  
  
A loud female voice suddenly intruded in on the conversation, shouting from the kitchen, "That's because you were getting in my way!" Harry yelled back, "How long?" "Give them a tour of the house." A sudden bang and some muttered cursing followed, then she continued, "End in the dining room and it'll be ready. But don't you dare come in here unless you want to lick the floor clean!" Harry shook his head. "See what I have to put up with?" he mock complained in a stage whisper to his friends. Dumbledore smiled as Eva hollered back, "Quit whining you big baby. Now get moving." "Yes warden," Harry replied softly, rolling his eyes. "I heard that!" "Good!"  
  
Ignoring the snickers the exchange invoked, Harry led them upstairs and showed each of them their rooms, where they dropped off their belongings for now. In a sadistic twist, he put Sirius in the same room Snape had just vacated earlier that day. Despite all that had happened, they still despised each other, and probably would until hell froze over. Ron and Hermione were rooming next to each other, as were the twins and Remus and Arabella.  
  
Soon the group regathered after admiring their rooms, and Harry led them through the Astronomy tower room, library, living room, game room, meditation rooms, and various other rooms. Then he skipped the kitchen area on threat of evisceration from Eva to show off his workout areas downstairs. Ron and Charlie smiled appreciatively when they saw the weight room, weapons arena, indoor pool, and padded sparring room. This place was fully equipped to train for practically everything, from rugby to Auror hell days. Harry saw the looks on their faces and promised they could try it out later. In contrast, Hermione was nearly as excited as Snape when he opened up the lab, itching to start playing with the toys and create her own potions for fun.  
  
The final stage of the tour found them outside in the garden, which was a virtual jungle with nearly every type of plant know to the wizarding and Muggle worlds, under various climate charms. "I spend a lot of time back here. While it is mostly self-sustaining, I actually enjoy gardening. I grow most of my Potions ingredients here, as well as fresh vegetables and fruit for the kitchen. We'll be eating some of it for dinner." Harry passed briefly by the outdoor pool before he showed off his Quidditch pitch.  
  
The Weasley men's eyes lit up with excitement when he got out the various balls- a professional set- and a couple of extra brooms he had gotten somewhere. "Wicked Harry! We have to have a game tonight!" "Yeah! There's 14 of us, enough for two full teams. What'd'you think, old people versus us young folk?" Fred grinned wickedly at his parents, who managed to look furious, insulted, indignant, and slightly nervous at the same time.  
  
"Okay, but to make it even Charlie will have to play for the other side. It'll be a battle of the Seekers." Harry smirked as cheers and protests answered his suggestion. "It's settled. After dinner then." He checked his watch. "Dinner's probably ready by now. Let's go inside before Eva decides to serve my guts for dessert." As they headed in, Ron asked quietly, "Harry, is Eva living here with you?" "No, she's just staying a few days. She came by to drop off my birthday present and make sure I was still alive." He looked curiously over as the redhead seemed relieved for some reason, and inquired, "Why do you ask?" Ron muttered something inaudible, then complimented him on his house.  
  
When they entered the dining room, Eva had already set the table and put out covered dishes of food, steam seeping out from under the lids and filling the room with their delicious aromas. Stomachs started growling in anticipation as she called out from the kitchen, "Go ahead and find a seat. I'll be out in a minute." The twins squabbled briefly over where the empty seat for Eva would be, but with some fuss and scraping of chairs, the entire family was finally settled.  
  
Eva emerged with a grin and a large platter of grilled stuffed steaks, which she set down in the center of the table with a chef's proud flourish. Harry introduced her to everyone there quickly as she took a seat next to Sirius across from Harry, and she nodded at each person in turn. They sat staring at her for a moment before she encouraged them to "Dig in!"  
  
The food was delicious and filling, and in enough quantities that even Ron had plenty to eat. For a while there was too much chewing for anybody to talk, when suddenly both Fred and George started gasping and sweating, their faces bright red. "What's wrong?" Remus asked, concerned. "Hot . . . too spicy," George managed to choke out. Eva looked stricken. "Oh sorry about that. I slipped a couple of habanera peppers in the steaks for me. I must have grabbed the wrong ones." Eva looked innocently contrite, but Harry could tell by the twinkle in her eyes that she had purposely pranked the twins. This could only get better. "Try some water," he suggested.  
  
They gulped their glasses in one breath and relaxed for a moment in relief, then their eyes bulged out. "Oops. Harry, you know better than that. Water spreads the oil around and makes it worse. You need bread," Eva informed them, and immediately Fred and George crammed huge spoonfuls of stuffing in their mouths. "Not that! The stuffing has chopped jalapenos and chiles in it. The combination increases the spiciness." This statement was proved when Fred almost screamed in pain while George panted, fanning his open mouth desperately. By now the entire table was trying not to snicker at their misfortune. Eva thought for a moment and said, "Milk might help."  
  
In one fluid motion both boys shot from their seats like a salamander that swallowed a Filibuster Firework and ran for the kitchen. They yanked open the refrigerator and briefly fought over the bottle before draining it completely. For a second there was silence, then twin shouts of agony were heard, and Eva yelled at them, "Not the skim milk! The goat's milk in the back! There might only be enough for one!"  
  
At that Ron burst into outright laughter, having caught the glint in Eva's eye. Ginny followed suit, as did Harry, and the entire table erupted in loud laughter. Bill had tears in his eyes as he choked out, "You did that on purpose, didn't you?" "Who, me?" Eva said with an angelically innocent expression on her face, which was promptly spoiled by the diabolical smirk on her lips. "Of course I did." Sirius chuckled appreciatively. "Harry, you were right. She is worse than the Marauders." "You haven't seen anything yet. This was one of her mild pranks. She's being polite of my guests."  
  
Eva laughed delightedly at the expressions on their faces. "Don't worry, Harry's told me so much about their exploits I had to see if they could take as well as give. Those were the only two spiced steaks. The rest of the food is fine." She punctuated her statement by taking a big bite out of her steak. The twins chose that moment to enter, directing glares at the girl that could have made a Death Eater shiver. She only smiled. "Better now boys?" "I hate goat's milk," they grumbled together as they sat down sullenly. She giggles maniacally and everyone joined in.  
  
After a scrumptious dessert of cherry pie a la mode, they all gathered in the living room to let dinner settle a bit before the Quidditch match. Dumbledore started off with a few questions for Eva. "How were you designated to be Harry's personal trainer?" She settled back into the armchair as attention focused on her. "Well, there were several factors. His ancestors were looking for someone with the necessary skills and knowledge, not to mention practical experience. They wanted someone who could also teach him some culture, not turn him into some hardened battle axe with no sense of humor. And James and Lily wanted the best practical joker to teach him to carry on the Marauder tradition, without being corrupted by Sirius' childishness."  
  
Most turned to Sirius, chuckling at his slightly insulted expression before he gave a grudging grin, but Harry leaned forward. "You never told me you've spoken to my parents." "You never asked." She added, "They're very proud of you, of the young man you've become and the responsibilities you've shouldered." Remus began to rub his forehead as if trying to ward off a headache. "Wait. How is it possible for you to have spoken to dead people?" Eva glanced over at Harry, then sighed. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. There exists multiple dimensions, some parallel in time while others branch off. Not quite multiverses, because there are no repeats in time."  
  
Most people simply stared at her in complete bewilderment, and she grimaced before trying again. "Have you ever thought 'What if?' Multiverses are the idea that there exists a universe for every possible decision to a life changing situation. Such as what if Sirius had been the Potter's Secret Keeper? This is a nice theory, but not quite correct. Picture this dimension as a string on a loom. Next to it are other strings or dimensions parallel to it, but not exactly like it. Each string represents a different realm, of time or space or something else entirely. When someone here dies, their soul leaves this realm and moves to a different one. There are actually two realms that store the souls. One is commonly referred to as Heaven, and the souls there can actually visit some of the other realms, including mine. The other is the Underworld or Hell, and once you're there you're stuck there. They do exist, but I'll leave the theological and philosophical ramifications of that to someone else. With me so far?"  
  
At their slightly hesitant nods, she continued. "The Guardians are the ones in charge of the loom of dimensions. I am a special type of being, because while I do not have the full powers of the Guardians, I am able to travel across the strings and affect the weave. Meddle, if you wish, to a certain extent. I'm the only one of the Guardians allowed direct contact with mortals in their lives, but they've put some restrictions on me. Most of my power is constrained to my own realm, where I trained Harry. Time has no meaning there, so while we spent nearly 16 months there, only 3 months passed here." Eva sighed. "It's hard for the dead and most of the living to travel to my realm, so their visits are infrequent as best. That's why I travel between realms, parallel dimensions, so I can interact with others. Unfortunately I'm forbidden from some of them."  
  
Arabella looked intrigued. "So in a sense you travel through time." "Not quite, but close enough. Time flows, but I don't have to follow it." "So how old are you? Or are you immortal?" Eva laughed. "Nope, not quite. I'm not really sure how old I am. Time is a relative measure, so it would be different in each realm and incalculable in some. How old do I look?" Arabella looked her over critically. "I'd say about 23 or so." Sirius interrupted, "But with the maturity level of a four year old." Eva only grinned at that. "I'll share a little secret with you. Something many philosophers and wise men never figure out in all their lifetimes, and some of the Guardians still can't comprehend." She beckoned them all to lean in, and when they did, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "The universe has a sense of humor."  
  
Their various reactions to that pronouncement were quite amusing to watch. Bill changed the subject. "So Harry, how did you get your hair so long? I've been letting mine grow for a few years new, and it's nowhere near the length of yours." "Yes dear, it's really getting quite silly. I could trim it back for you," Molly offered, fingering her wand. Harry stifled a laugh. "It wouldn't help. Thanks to a weird law of nature Eva's never been able to fully explain, it grows faster than a Snitch can fly. Lucky for me it doesn't grow past my feet, or else I'd have to use a lawn mower to keep it in check."  
  
Eva jumped in, "Besides, a queue like that can be a useful weapon." "A what?" "A queue. In ancient China, the Imperial Guard were not allowed to cut their hair, and instead pulled it back in a long braid that doubled as a whip or a club. It was a symbol of their honor and devotion, and to chop off their queue was a worse fate than death." Dumbledore looked mildly impressed. "You seem to be quite knowledgeable on the subject." "I should be. I studied in China for several years and traveled with the Imperial Guard." Eva giggled suddenly. "It's a good thing they didn't know I was a woman."  
  
Sirius gaped. "How could they miss something like that?" "Well . . ." Harry began with an impish twinkle in his eye. Eva smacked his arm playfully. "Shut up. I know what you were thinking," she added at his injured innocent expression. "For your information, I was disguised with a little trick I learned from the Egyptians, and I wanted to test it out in dangerous situations." Hermione looked delighted. "Egyptians, huh? Do you know much about the Greeks?" "Yep, both Muggle and magical history. Fascinating civilization. Of course, Atlantis has always been my favorite in terms of this realm's history and culture. That's where Muggles and wizards coexisted peaceably together and came up with some truly wondrous innovations. Its collapse and destruction led to the creation of the war mages, as well as the magical society's withdrawal from Muggle life." Now Dumbledore was suitable impressed, and Hermione was nearly bouncing with excitement. "Maybe I should hire you to replace Professor Binns." Eva just laughed. "Believe me, you don't want to." Harry agreed wholeheartedly, "There'd be no survivors."  
  
Charlie checked his watch. "Well, I believe it's time for Quidditch! C'mon, let the slaughter begin." Ron smirked as he rose from his seat. "You that eager to die? Harry's gonna wipe the pitch with you." "In your dreams. Let's go!" The enthusiasts raced for the outdoor pitch, while the slightly less excited members followed as a decent pace. The teams quickly split up and mounted their brooms (Harry had transported the Weasleys', Sirius' and Remus' brooms over earlier). Eva came out to referee and released the balls. "This should be fun. Okay, ready, go!" She tossed the Quaffle up, and chaos erupted.  
  
The twins started a Beater battle with Sirius and Bill, the Bludgers flying furiously among Remus, Arthur, Molly, Hermione, Ginny and Percy. Dumbledore guarded the goals on one side, creating quite the sight with his long robes and hair on the broom, while Ron played Keeper on the other. Above them all soared Charlie and Harry, both eyeing each other while searching for the elusive Snitch. The Weasley parents were surprisingly good Chasers, but Hermione shocked them all with her determination and flying skills. Apparently she had been practicing when no one was looking. She and Ginny made a strong offense, while Percy seemed competent but subdued. He was never really interested in playing Quidditch. The Quaffle changed hands constantly, the score holding at zero due to Ron's goalkeeping skills and Percy's tendency to attract Bludgers.  
  
Suddenly Harry pelted into the swarm of Chasers, heading straight for Remus who held the Quaffle. He dropped it in surprise, and Ginny scooped it up, then dodged around Dumbledore and threw the ball through the middle hoop. "Finally! The little people get past the old farts. Ten to nothing. This is really rather pathetic," Eva teased a bit, but then she had to dodge both Bludgers as all four Beaters smacked them at her in annoyance. Play resumed quickly, and Harry decided to see just how good Charlie was. He had heard stories while at Hogwarts, but never had seen him in action yet. Harry dove for the ground and heard Charlie follow him barely a second behind, sticking right on his tail.  
  
Only a few meters from the ground, he recognized a Wronski Feint and pulled up, banking off low to the right before soaring up again. Harry waited a second more before pulling out and to the left, feeling his fingertips graze the grass. He rose and circled until he was directly opposite Charlie, and they grinned briefly at each other in recognition of the other's skill. Harry was bored with passive seeking, so he descended to the Chaser's level and began pulling some defensive flying tricks he developed to interfere with the other team, all the while keeping an eye out for the Snitch.  
  
Just as Harry ducked under a Bludger Sirius had sent his way for nearly unseating Remus, he caught sight of the Snitch hovering in the middle of a knot of Chasers. Charlie saw it too, and both of them took off after it. The tiny winged ball shot upwards, flittering here and there but refusing to remain still for more than a split second, then changed course and headed for Ron's goal. The Seekers flew right in its wake, pushing each other to try and get an edge on speed. Charlie tried a Transylvanian Tackle, but Harry remained unfazed and angled his broom into the other, shoving him off course. Ron quickly got out of the way as they shot towards him. There were almost there, both had a hand out to grab the Snitch, when it abruptly dropped, circling the goalpost like a mini tornado and hovering barely two inches above the ground.  
  
Charlie braked quickly and dove downwards, but lost his momentum. Harry shot through the goal like a human Quaffle and latched onto the goalpost, using it as an anchor point as he flew in a full speed spiral down the post, copying the Snitch's route. He kept his eyes wide open and ignored both the dizziness and the burning in his hand from the friction, opting instead to concentrate on the tiny gold ball. Just as Charlie reached it, held out his hand and started to close his fingers on it, Harry let go of the post and blasted out sideways at top speed, snatching the Snitch right out from Charlie's hand.  
  
Harry's team cheered wildly, and at that point he became aware that everyone else had stopped to watch. Even Charlie, while looking a bit disgruntled, still was very impressed with his amazing catch. Harry landed unsteadily and almost fell as the world continued spinning around him. Ron laughed and yelled, "Hey Harry, what d'you call that move?" Harry looked up and grinned. "Spin cycle. Don't try it at home." He started toward the broom shed, but stumbled and fell flat on his back, the sky whirling around like a kaleidoscope in his vision. "You alright there Harry?" Eva giggled.  
  
"Somebody stop the world please, I'd like to get off." Everyone laughed as they landed all around him. "Too bad you're not as graceful on the ground as you are in the air. No wonder you haven't got a girlfriend," Sirius teased him. "Shut up you. Once I figure out which one of the two of you is the real one, you are going to pay for that. "Oh really? You and what army?" Harry grinned lopsidedly. "Just me." "Oh, bring it on hotshot." Harry chuckled and made a face. "Maybe tomorrow. When I can see straight again. Hey Ron, if I try that one again, please hex me." "My pleasure," Ron bared his teeth in a mock evil grin, and more laughs greeted that.  
  
Once they had all made their way back inside, Sirius snapped his fingers. "We all forgot. Alright Harry, since we all missed your birthday, you have to open your gifts tonight. Come on now." Harry was a bit embarrassed; he'd never had a real birthday party before. The twins gave him a complete set of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, every joke item they had developed and sold in their new store, plus some prototypes not available to the public yet. Their shop, incidentally, had opened at the beginning of the summer in Diagon Alley and was an instant sensation. They were actually thinking of opening a second store in Hogsmeade to get the Hogwarts business, to compete with Zonko's.  
  
Hermione had given Harry a brand-new book on Quidditch, as well as refills for his Broomstick Servicing Kit. Ginny, trying to hide a furious Weasley blush, gave him a leather wristband hand-etched with the emblem of a lion in red and gold. It fit perfectly on his wrist and felt natural, like it was meant to be there. He thanked her sincerely, and she looked delighted.  
  
Ron seemed a bit uncomfortable as he handed over his wrapped present, and felt the need to explain it. "Well, you see . . . I was kind of wandering down Diagon Alley the other day, and I didn't know what to get you. I walked past this store, and in the window there this was, see? And I don't know, it seemed to, well . . . suit you, I guess. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I felt like I had to get it for you." He looked on nervously as Harry tore open the wrappings and opened the box. Harry's mouth fell open and his eyes widened in astonishment as he pulled out a pendant on a long silver chain. It was a circular silver disk with carvings of a phoenix in flight clutching a serpent in its talons. The phoenix's eyes were emerald chips, while the serpent glared balefully with rubies. A ring of emeralds surrounded it, flashing in the firelight, and engraved on the edge was a line of flowing script. It was completely unreadable, but as he examined it, something stirred in his heart, and he began muttering in a strange tongue. Suddenly noticing the strange glances directed his way, he desisted and slipped the chain over his head, the pendant resting above his heart. He met Ron's eyes, still unsure, and gave him a big grin. "It's perfect. Thank you." The redhead's face brightened in relief.  
  
Remus cleared his throat. "Sirius and I decided to give you a combined gift." He passed over a beautifully wrapped box. Harry cocked an eyebrow wryly. "I take it you didn't wrap it." Sirius scowled and pointed at Hermione, mumbling "I never was any good at decorating." They chuckled as Harry opened the parcel to reveal two wands and a book in velvet wrappings. He picked them up reverently, noting one was made of willow, the other mahogany, and instinctively know who they belonged to. "My parent's wands." He glanced over at his godfather who nodded. "They were recovered from the wreckage of the house that night, and we found them stored in Remus' attic last month. I know you have so little of them; your parents would have wanted you to have them."  
  
Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat, Harry began leafing through the book. The front half held many pictures of a young Lily and her friends, progressively aging as they traced through her years at Hogwarts and beyond. He found a photo of his family celebrating his first birthday with Sirius and Remus, and he could not speak. The second half was filled with a neat, flowing handwriting.  
  
Remus explained, "Lily kept this journal and album ever since she arrived at Hogwarts. I remember her writing in it practically every night in the Common Room, and even after we graduated. I swear she must have taken it on their honeymoon." Harry blushed a bit at that little jest. "She would take pictures of some of our pranks, both successes and failures, and reminded us that one day our children would look back on all of this and laugh." Harry surreptitiously wiped his eyes, got up and gave Remus and Sirius a hug that conveyed more than any words could.  
  
For a minute or two the group sat in silence, and then Dumbledore drew Harry's attention. "The remainder of the Weasley family and I have also conspired on your gift. As you are the heir of Gryffindor, we felt that you should have something that he once cherished." Charlie took a small whistle out of his pocket and tossed it to Harry, who looked at it quizzically. "Give it a blow." The teen shrugged, put it to his mouth and whistle out a note that sounded a bit like a bird's song. Almost immediately an answering whistle sounded from outside, and a large bird soared in through an open window, singing.  
  
Harry recognized it as a phoenix, but unlike Fawkes, this one had an even mix of crimson and gold feathers. It was also slightly larger than Dumbledore's companion. It circled once around the room then landed gracefully on Harry's outstretched arm. The two regarded each other for a moment, then the phoenix spread its wings and bowed. Greetings Lord Phoenix. I am Eredfire, Emperor Phoenix and companion to Godric Gryffindor. You are my master now. Harry blinked in surprise at the unearthly voice echoing through his head.  
  
*I didn't know I could speak to phoenixes mentally.* Oh yes, that is one of the abilities as heir and lord, master. I will show you what else you can do later, if you wish. *I would like that. And please, call me Harry.* Very well, master Harry. I have a letter for you. It was only then that Harry noticed the envelope tied to Eredfire's leg. He untied it and opened it to find a letter and a little wrapped object.  
  
The letter read, "Happy Birthday Harry! Ron told us that you've been sporting an earring for a while, and Charlie and I decided to enhance your jewelry selection. This is a claw from the Hungarian Horntail you took on in your fourth year. We shrunk it to a manageable size and had it set in platinum. Maybe this will help you with the ladies. Signed, Bill and Charlie. PS: Mum doesn't know about this." Harry snickered at that and unwrapped the earring. Hiding it from view of the others in his hand, he got up and announced, "I'll be right back," and the phoenix fluttered over to the back of the chair as he tore up to his bedroom at a run. This was perfect. He quickly threw on his black leather pants, dragon hide boots, a black shirt and vest, then pulled on his leather trenchrobe over the ensemble. He inserted the earring in his ear, and glanced at his image in the mirror. Something was missing. He snapped his fingers, and a pair of dark glasses popped into his hand, and he slipped them on over his eyes. There, perfect.  
  
Harry quietly slunk his way downstairs and towards the living room entrance, where he could hear the murmur of conversation, mainly questions about the phoenix and the unseen present. He chuckled quietly to himself then sauntered back into the room. Utter silence fell over the group as they regarded him with wide eyes and a mix of expressions. He kept his face blank and tossed his head to the side so the earring was clearly visible. Bill and Charlie started grinning madly, as did Sirius and the twins, while Molly looked vaguely horrified. Ron did a very accurate impersonation of a landed carp, and Hermione could not decide whether to be disapproving or admiring, so her face was a comical mixture of both. Ginny was practically drooling but trying to hide it.  
  
Harry turned to Bill and Charlie and asked "Well, what do you think?" Eredfire twittered and hopped back onto his shoulder. Interesting choice of apparel, master Harry. It suits you he chuckled. Remus looked over at the two guilty redheads. "You gave him all that?" "No, just the earring. I wanted to show off the full effect," Harry answered him, and Sirius laughed. "You look like a hellion. All you need now is a black motorcycle." Eva giggled as Harry grinned, "Already covered."  
  
At the assembled stunned glances, Harry beckoned them the all to follow him outside, where he wheeled out his Vincent Black Shadow. To Sirius, Eva explained, "I decided that he should have something that you once cherished too. Since yours was destroyed, I got him another flying cycle." Remus buried his head in his hands and groaned. "Oh no, not another one. You've created a monster." Now Ron was the one practically drooling, eyeing the machine. "Wicked! This is even better than the flying car! How fast does it go?" "I've topped her out at 200 km/hr on straight-aways, and over 230 on dives. She handles like a dream."  
  
Harry glanced slyly at his friend. "Want to go for a ride?" Ron's eye lit up with excitement. "Hell yes!" He clambered on behind Harry, and they took off before Molly could get a strongly worded protest out. Eredfire spread his wings and flew after them, easily pacing the two teens. Harry shot a challenging look over at him. *Shall we see if you can keep up?* Try all you want to shake me, but I can certainly match anything you do, master Harry. He grinned and yelled back at Ron, "Hang on!" then sent them into a steep dive, the phoenix right behind him. He pulled up to touch down on the road and gunned the accelerator, quickly reaching 160 km/hr before the first series of curves. He dared a quick glance over his shoulder, spotting Eredfire about 10 meters behind him, grinned and shot though the next curve, leaning nearly 45 degrees to the road.  
  
Harry straightened up through the next one and waited until they reached a curve with a particularly dangerous drop-off and drove straight for the edge. He could hear Ron yell as he realized where Harry was going, which turned into a full-blown scream as they launched themselves into thin air. The Shadow dropped at an incredible rate, the ground reaching up to embrace them, and then Harry kicked in the levitation and invisibility boosters at the same time. He pulled up sharply to clear the cliff on the other side and flew straight back towards his home.  
  
A loud whistle behind them revealed that Eredfire had lost them, but guessed by the sound that Harry was heading back. The phoenix knew how to track his master anywhere, even invisible, especially since the engine was still running. Right as they crossed the barrier onto his property, Harry removed the invisibility booster, and swooped down for a landing right in front of the porch where everyone was waiting. He shut the Shadow down, then turned to Ron.  
  
Ron's bright red hair was sticking up in all directions, even worse than Harry's used to, contrasting sharply with his pure white face, his freckles almost black. His mouth was wide open in a silent scream as his eyes bugged out. His hands clutched the back of Harry's trenchrobe in a death grip, and he appeared frozen in his seat. Eredfire flew up and landed on Harry's shoulder, chuckling. I think your stunts might have scared him a bit. Harry shook Ron's shoulder. "Hey Ron, it's over. You can get off now." He simply sat there.  
  
Harry and Eredfire exchanged amused looks as they considered him, then the phoenix emitted a single note which seemed to revive the teen. Ron blinked, let go of Harry's robe and tottered off the bike. He stood there for a moment, a dazed expression on his face, before a huge smile broke out and he let out a huge whoop. "That was wicked Harry! I thought you were crazy on a broom, but bloody hell! This was awesome! Let's do it again!" Harry laughed. "Not tonight." They walked inside, Ron still gushing about the experience to the envious twins and a horrified Molly, while Harry compared stories with Sirius.  
  
Molly lost her disapproving glare as she yawned discreetly, and looked at her watch. "Goodness gracious, it's late. I think I'll head off to bed now." The older ones followed her example, agreeing that they needed sleep. Remus turned to the teens still downstairs "Don't stay up too late." Eva rolled her eyes. "Yes mother." The others snickered as Remus flushed a bit before bidding them goodnight. Bill and Charlie both decided to hit the weight room downstairs, while Hermione took off at full speed for the library with Ginny. Eva showed Ro down to the sparring room and she worked with him on various techniques that Harry had taught him. Harry smile happily while he briefly cleaned the Shadow and wheeled her back into the covered garage he had built specially for her.  
  
Harry joined Ron and Eva down in the gym. They had a lot of fun play fighting and fooling around a little, and before they knew it, it was after midnight. Eva headed up to bed, but Harry pulled her aside and whispered to her, "The twins have been setting up a few pranks in your room." She grinned maliciously and whispered back, "I know," with a devilish look of anticipation on her face. He just shook his head as she headed up, wondering at the resurgence of her strange behavior and headed up to the library. Sure enough, Hermione and Ginny had both fallen asleep in their chairs curled around books. Percy lay sprawled at the desk; his head resting on a stack of parchment, probably some work form the Ministry. Too bad if it was, because he was currently drooling on it. Ron shook him awake so he could stumble off to bed while Harry quietly picked up Ginny. Ron gathered Hermione in his arms.  
  
Cradling the sleeping girls, they headed upstairs to deposit them into their proper beds. Ron gently kissed his girlfriend goodnight as he tucked the covers in around her, then headed off to his own bed with a sleepy sort of smile on his face. Exhausted but elated, Harry stripped down to his boxers and collapsed on the bed, sound asleep in seconds.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Eva stirred awake, flicking her eyes and senses around the room to see what had awakened her in the middle of the night. Abruptly she realized the trouble was not in her room, but in Harry's. While their mental connection did not allow her to see his dreams, she could pick up on his emotions, which were now battering her mind with the force of a tornado. She shucked on a robe and sprinted silently to his room, hoping not to wake the others. Especially not the twins, since they should not find out about the full effects of her retaliatory prank until morning. Slipping inside, she cast a Silencing charm around the room just to be safe.  
  
Harry lay asleep in bed, but not getting any rest. He writhed and tossed amid the tangled sweat-soaked sheets, and his face contorted in a grimace of pain. Despite his clenched teeth, a loud moan escaped his lips followed by a quick gasp and panted breaths. Eva leaned over and touched his forehead, and was relieved to discover that this was not the Dream Stand again. Still, this connection with Voldemort allowed him to see and feel the torture he inflicted on others. Harry's muffled cries made up her mind.  
  
She shook his shoulder, trying to snap him out of the nightmare. When that failed, she laid her hand over his scar and concentrated, attempting to mute the link since she could not sever it completely. Gradually Harry settled, but the vision gave way to a nightmare, possible even more terrifying to him since it involved his friends. Eva sighed; there was still one thing left to do.  
  
Eva lifted him up off the bed and cradled him against her tenderly, murmuring soft words as she stroked his head. The bed sheets piled themselves in a corner while fresh ones arranged themselves over the mattress. When she endeavored to place Harry back down in bed, though, he whimpered and clutched her robe tightly, refusing to let go. It almost broke her heart. ^He's never had anyone mother him like this before,^ she realized with a deep sense of . . . something, weighing heavily on her heart. ^Even he can't be strong all the time. He's still human after all.^  
  
She acquiesced and lay down on the bed, snuggling closer until Harry's head lay pillowed on her chest, and continued to run her fingers through his hair. His breathing calmed and he slipped into a deep sleep, far away from dreams. He sighed in his sleep and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. Rocking him gently with her arms around him, Eva began to sing softly.  
  
May it be an evening star shines down upon you.  
  
May it be when darkness falls your heart will be true.  
  
You walk a lonely road, oh how far you are from home.  
  
Mornie utulie. Believe and you will find your way.  
  
Mornie alantie. A promise lives within you now.  
  
May it be the shadows call will fly away.  
  
May it be you journey on to light the day.  
  
When the night is overcome you may rise to find the sun.  
  
Mornie utulie. Believe and you will find your way.  
  
Mornie alantie. A promise lives within you now.  
  
Eva sang it as a blessing from her heart. She loved him deeply, but knew he had a destiny that she could not interfere with. He could never love her back, or anyone else for that matter. She knew that Fate had decreed their warrior could never know or feel romantic love, since that was seen as a weakness among the Guardians. They had seen too many civilizations fall and wars fought over love. She sighed in defeat. More fools they, and just more proof that Fate really was a bitch. Eva drifted off to sleep, sharing a bed with Harry, their arms wrapped contentedly around each other.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Sirius woke the next morning feeling amazingly refreshed and fully rested. The bedside clock informed him that he had overslept, but not hideously so. After a quick but luxurious shower and a fresh change of clothes, he headed down to the kitchen. The three professors and elder Weasleys were seated at the table, eating and chatting while Percy sat listening. Bill and Charlie were cleaning their dishes, and the other teens were laughing at the twins in the breakfast nook.  
  
Sirius noted with amusement that Fred and George now had orange and green polka-dotted skin, shocking pink hair with cute little matching bows, and the only visible clothes they wore were bright yellow smiley-face boxers. And just to add insult to injury, they had shrunk to about the size of house elves. The ex-convict chuckled as he served himself some eggs and pancakes. "Tried to prank Eva last night, did we?" he asked casually.  
  
Fred spoke up in their defense. "We spent two hours setting our prank up in her room, and this morning she's completely untouched. And those were some of our best sellers too. We have to find out how she did it." His voice induced a fit of giggles among those present, because he sounded like he had been inhaling helium all night. Hermione choked out, "Could you repeat that, I don't speak balloon!" before another set of laughter rang out and she collapsed against Ron, shaking with uncontrollable giggles. Sirius snorted into his plate.  
  
Just then Eva entered, obviously just come up from the weight room. She sauntered through the kitchen to grab a full bottle of water and drain it thirstily, then turned to grin at the twins. "I believe you left something in my room last night. Here, you can have it back." She tossed a bag at them, which they opened to find every single joke item they had so carefully set up. Fred and George glanced at each other, then back at Eva. "Okay, we admit it. You are the superior prankster here, and we kneel before your greatness."  
  
Simultaneously they kneeled down and grabbed her hands, proclaiming loudly, "Eva is the prankster queen, worthy of the Marauders of old. We will be your humble apprentices, bowing down at your feet until you teach us your divine secrets." Eva could not hold in the snickers any longer as they bowed down before her like peasants before a pagan altar. "Alright you two. Let's quit while I'm ahead. You've taken it well, and I commend you on your efforts. Truce?" "Truce!" they echoed gleefully in their squeaky voices. Eva snapped her fingers and they popped back to normal, including their clothes.  
  
Sirius glanced around and asked Eva, "Where's Harry this morning?" She jerked a thumb towards the back. "Out swimming his daily workout. He should be finishing up by now." Ginny's eyes lit up. "Let's go check out the pool. We didn't really get to see it last night." Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione suppressed a grin. *You mean let's check out Harry swimming again.* He remembered the chaos it caused the last time, and hoped fervently that it would not resort to that again. He followed his sister out the door, and eventually everyone joined them outside in the sunshine to enjoy the beautiful day.  
  
They settled into seats around the pool, still talking but also keeping an eye on Harry, who was swimming laps back and forth. After a couple minutes he finished and hoisted himself out, water streaming off his tanned muscles as he reached for a towel. "Morning," he greeted them as he dried off. He turned around to head for the changing room when Sirius noticed something. "Harry, where'd you get those scratches on your back?"  
  
Harry looked startled and slightly guarded. "What scratches?" "These ones. They look like . . . fingernail marks?" Incredulous, Sirius stepped up to his godson to inspect them closer, but spotted something else that drew his attention. "Is that a . . . no, it can't be." Ron glance up at his friend, and his eyes widened as he saw what Sirius had commented on. "Oh my God. Harry, is that . . ." Ginny's face was a picture of shock, while Hermione looked scandalized through her giggles. "What?" Harry asked exasperatedly.  
  
Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and said with all seriousness, "You have a hickey on your neck." 


	16. Storytelling

A/N: I can't thank you guys enough for your reviews. Especially you, sopybubbles. I was cracking up reading them, and I have once again proved that I can make anybody laugh (or blush *winks saucily*). I had a lot of fun writing that chapter, and the reactions I got to where I left it off were worth staying up typing until 3 am. I never said I was laying off the cliffies, but then again I never considered this one a cliffie. Crazy people are the fun people. I should know, I'm one of them. I'm also evil, but that's a whole other story.  
  
Btw, Death-Demon Xero, did you get a sneak peak on my hard copy before I typed this up? Because you were the only person who seemed to figure out what really happened. So for the rest of you, here's what really happened, plus more.  
  
Shameless plug: go check out clifjumpr13. He's a good friend of mine, and we tend to inspire each other at times. Slightly dark and twisted, but gifted.  
  
Dedicated to Pyre Pheonix.  
  
Chapter 16  
  
After Sirius' pronouncement, there was a moment of dead silence in which everyone stared incredulously at the blanching teen and the telltale red blotch on his neck. Then Eva began giggling furiously as Harry blushed a dark crimson and clapped a hand to his neck. He turned to her with an accusing glance. She smiled sweetly, "Sorry honey, guess I got a little too frisky this morning." Everyone gaped at her with a mix of horrified and amused expressions, and Harry's eyes practically popped out of his head.  
  
The twins grinned wickedly and George passed Fred a couple of Galleons, chuckling. Harry saw that and glared at them. "It's not like that at all. We were sparring early this morning." "Oh, is that what they call it now?" Remus asked innocently, and Arabella stifled a snicker. Eva broke in. "Yes. We were . . . sparring." She winked. "Harry is very good with his sword . . . and his hands." Eva's bright eyes sparkled mischievously, lacing her words with enough double meaning to make even Sirius flush. She directed her next comment back to Harry. "Frankly, I'm surprised you had enough stamina left over for your swim after the workout we had this morning."  
  
Harry hid his now purple face in his hands, shaking his head in silent denial as most the Weasleys stared in shock and the twins hooted and catcalled. The professors, especially Dumbledore seemed to find this terribly amusing and were trying to hide their broad grins. Abruptly Eva yelped in surprise as she floated up in the air and was levitated over the water before she dropped, hitting with a huge splash. She surfaced, sputtering and cursing, and Harry leaned toward her at the edge, an evil grin on his face.  
  
"Looked like you were getting a bit hot. I figured you needed to cool down a bit." She flashed a matching evil grin, then grabbed the end of his braid and yanked him back into the pool next to her. The resulting tidal wave from his impromptu belly flop drenched the people sitting nearest the pool, raising shrieks of surprise. For a few moments the two wrestled underwater, the turbulence in the water preventing the spectators from seeing what was happening.  
  
Eva came up first, snickering and scrambled for the edge to pull herself out and collapse in the farthest seat, gasping for air around her laughs. Harry shot up a few seconds later, hauled himself out and knelt at the poolside, gasping. Eva had untied his hair underwater, loosing the entire mass from its restricting braid. Now his whole body was hidden from view by a streaming black curtain. Truthfully, he looked like Padfoot after a bath.  
  
Sirius began laughing at his godson, and soon the gathered adults and teens all joined in. The sight was just too funny. Just to make matters worse, Harry got to his feet and shook his head violently, just like a wet dog, so water spattered everywhere. After managing to contain most of her giggles, Arabella turned to Eva, tears of mirth in her eyes, and inquired, "You two aren't really . . . you know . . ."  
  
"What? Sleeping together?" Eva finished the thought loud enough to attract everyone's ears. "No, of course not." She snickered a bit. "This was just payback for an earlier prank, and I couldn't resist the opportunity for public humiliation." She laughed as Harry shot her a death glare. "The marks are actually from our hand to hand combat lesson this morning. I'm teaching him a couple new fighting styles, so for now I can still kick his ass. Just wait until next week, then I won't be able to touch him."  
  
Harry stood by the pool in front of her, trying to wring the water out of his hair as he glared at her. "I thought I took care of those afterwards." She grinned. "I decided to make sure these ones stuck around for a little bit. Remember, I did warn you." He simply shook his head. "You have the most demented mind than I ever thought could possibly exist. Your insane innuendos could corrupt anyone." "Just remember what Snape said about corruption." "Don't you even bring that up. I'm going to change." He stalked off, pushing his wet hair back so he could see where he was going.  
  
Remus leaned over to Sirius and stage whispered "I think we've found someone even more childish than you, Padfoot." Eva grinned cheekily at them. "I'll take that as a compliment." Dumbledore leaned forward to inquire, "What was that about Severus?" Eva looked at him. "Harry will explain that. It's his story to tell." For a couple minutes they sat and chatted and laughed, then Harry reemerged dressed in a comfortable-looking outfit of all black. "Okay, it's story time. Let's head to the garden, it'll be more comfortable there."  
  
Once they were all settled in the clearing in the middle of the spacious garden, Harry bean to pace like a classic lecturer. "Alright, I promised you the full explanation on all that has occurred since last year. First off, many of you only just remembered the conversation we had when I returned last October. That, like I said earlier, was a slight miscalculation on my part. I removed the mental blocks yesterday." Harry proceeded to refresh their memories, or in some cases created new ones, as he spun his tale of his missing months, this time with a few interjections from Eva.  
  
He outlined what powers he knew he had, and his continuing campaign against the Death Eaters. Needless to say there was considerable shock for everyone, except for two teens who shall remain nameless, when he revealed that he was in fact the elusive Wraith. Molly almost fainted, recalling the stories her men had come home telling of his actions. Harry demonstrated the clone and his alter ego Wraith, much to the delight of the twins. They immediately began plotting the possible prank opportunities available with multiple Gred and Forge's running around. Fortunately Harry refused to teach them how to do it.  
  
Harry let the exclamations over his measures die down as he sighed. "It couldn't last long." His audience refocused their attentions on him at that cryptic statement. "The reduction of his forces drove Voldemort to search for new ways to destroy me. He knows about the prophecy, so he has entered into an alliance with the devil himself, and gained control over the demon armies. Unfortunately they are not susceptible to normal magic, so wizards can't repel their attacks. They're tough buggers, even for me." He began to pace restlessly, agitated.  
  
"Voldemort spoke of two talismans that, when used in the proper ritual, will allow Lucifer to completely possess him, granting immortality and invincibility. He has already found one, deep under the foundations of Azkaban. I fought him for it, but I was stabbed." A couple of gasps were heard as the Order members recalled that night, and Molly exclaimed, "You almost died that night!" Harry nodded briefly but pressed on. "He has found the archives that could help him discover where the second one was hidden, and currently has three Death Eaters working on translating them." He chuckled suddenly. "Bloody waste of time if you ask me, but I won't tell him that."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "You've already recovered it then." Harry smiled. "Found it on my birthday." "But how?" Hermione inquired, intrigued. Harry grimaced. "That requires another long story, and it's past lunchtime. Let's eat, then I'll continue." Looking vaguely disappointed but eager for food, they trooped back inside and raided the well stocked kitchen. After a brief meal, they regrouped in the living room since a storm was brewing outside. Dark clouds were gathering, promising a good summer soaking.  
  
Harry continued his narrative once they settled, telling of his visions and visits to the shadow realm, but leaving out any mention of the Lady Death, instead glossing over the initial meeting and skipping straight to the research. If asked, he honestly could not answer why, but just followed his instincts. He told of the exhaustive research and finally the discovery of the diary. He enthralled them all with the descriptions of the tests he passed to reach the talisman, and brought it forth to show, wrapped in a scrap of black velvet.  
  
Remus asked about this, and Harry replied, "I don't want to touch it." Pressed further, he tried to explain what had transpired the first time he touched it. "It was like nothing I've ever felt before. I could literally see magic, feel it, reach out and play with it. Imagine if you could . . . understand . . . the whole universe for the first time, experience it all at once and know how it works. The way it binds together, like a tapestry that you could only see glimpses of before and can now see all of it. It was . . ." he shook his head, "overwhelming, to say the least. I kind of passed out." He scratched the back of his neck ruefully. "When I woke up a week later, I was on that hill over there. Don't ask how, because I have absolutely no idea."  
  
He glanced over at Arthur. "I heard later that some sort of . . . magical disruptions were detected." Arthur nodded, looking slightly excited and relieved. "Waves of energy were felt all around the world, starting in South America and expanding, like a ripple effect." He looked askance at the black haired teen. "Surges and flashing lights were reported from Easter Island that night." The teen confirmed his unspoken guess with a nod. "Now if it reacted that way to me, I can't imagine what the effects would be if Voldemort got it."  
  
Percy interrupted for the first time. "But can't you just destroy it?" You know, to keep him from ever getting hold of it." Percy had been a slightly surprising addition to the Order, due to his devotion to the Ministry, but after the public confirmation of Voldemort's resurgence last year he had become a tireless worker, talented at sorting through stacks of paperwork to track various suspected Death Eaters and spies. Not all the Order members are involved in the active side of the battles.  
  
Harry ran a hand over his hair, a throwback gesture from when he still had a tangled mop residing on his head. "If only it were that simple. These talismans were used eons ago to destroy civilizations and banish cities to different realm altogether. The ancients couldn't destroy them, so they hid them as best they could. Their very presence slowly poisoned the surrounding areas with magic. Why do you think they built Azkaban where they did?" He sighed; it was getting to be a bad habit. "I was ordered to destroy it, but the ritual requires so much energy in the exact conditions that I can't do it now, and I'm not even sure if it'd work. Besides, once Voldemort realizes I have it, he'll have to come for it."  
  
Dumbledore stared at him in stunned realization. "You mean to use yourself and this talisman as bait." Harry nodded slowly, meeting his eyes as the others looked horrified. "I'm trying to keep a strategic advantage. He has always chosen the battlefield, somewhere he had an advantage. I'm drawing him onto mine now, so I can have a few surprises waiting." Now the headmaster looked pensive. "I assume you are talking about Hogwarts." The young war mage watched him a bit nervously, as if asking permission. Dumbledore sat back and considered the ramifications. "You realize the risks inherent in that decision. We have to protect the students there, as well as the noncombatants in Hogsmeade."  
  
He paused. "Then again, the castle is the safest place left anywhere, and is charmed and protected against unwanted invasion. I approve your decision Harry." "Thank you sir." Harry resumed pacing. "Once school's back in session, I'll increase the protection however I can." He fell silent, chewing his lower lip with his hands clenched behind his back. "Now, Eva mentioned something earlier about Severus. Have you had contact with him this summer?" Harry nodded distractedly at the old man's question.  
  
"I believe he reported to you that his cover in the Death Eaters was compromised." It was clearly a statement, not a question. "Yes, but he was unforthcoming in how he escaped, only that he had help." "You could say that. I only pulled his sorry ass out of Voldemort's throne room," he snickered a bit. Waving down the shouts of "WHAT?!?!" especially loud from the twin's direction, Harry proceeded to describe the vision that ended with him somehow transporting the Potions master through two realms and places, again avoiding mention of Death. "I can't find any way to explain it. Even the shadow archives have no record of anyone pulling another person physically into the shadow realm and out again."  
  
Eva interrupted, "What about the Dream Stand?" "That's different. Only your consciousness is there, even though it does affect the body." "Dream Stand?" Hermione looked puzzled, so Harry told of yesterday's confrontation with Voldemort and his subsequent escape just as he told Eva. He frowned as he recalled something, then paled as the implications became clear. He buried his face in his hands and muttered, "Oh shit."  
  
Everyone was slightly shocked to hear him swear like that. Sirius asked, "What's wrong?" They were even more concerned when he collapsed bonelessly in an armchair, staring at nothing with wide glazed eyes. "I just realized something. The wandless magic, the Dream Stand, the invocation to get me there. That's far above the ability Voldemort is supposed to have. He should not have been able to establish it, let alone pull me into it. I doubt that I could have done it, even if I knew how." He drew a shaky breath. "That could only mean one thing. Lucifer's already been able to transfer some of his powers into Voldemort, probably using the first talisman as a focal point. And the longer he has it, the stronger he'll get." At that even Eva's eyes widened in horror. "Oh shit is right!" she agreed fervently.  
  
A bright flash of lightning, followed by a loud rumble of thunder broke the uneasy silence that had fallen. The conversation had been so engrossing, nobody realized just how big a storm had been brewing. Eager to break the solemn mood, Charlie observed, "No Quidditch tonight." Fred snickered, "Oh, I don't know." George added, "Never stopped us before." "Never stopped Harry, you mean." Charlie looked confused for a minute, then brightened as the twins reminded him, "The Ravenclaw match for the finals!" Just for fun the twins regaled them with a very descriptive retelling of the Quidditch final and Harry's flying and the lightning.  
  
Harry smirked slightly. "I'm never doing that again. It was the equivalent of drinking a lake full of pure caffeine." Hermione explained what caffeine was to the less Muggle-informed, and then launched into a textbook definition of its use and effects of the body. Right in the middle of her lecture Harry felt a burning sting on his left arm. Cursing mentally, he excused himself and checked the Detection Parchment. Sure enough, a small group of Death Eaters was attacking a town in France, no demons this time.  
  
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his trenchrobe and transfigured his clothes, then poked his head back into the living room. "I'm sorry, but I have to run a quick errand. Be back in a while." "Wait, where are you going?" Dumbledore asked quickly, standing up to face him. "France," he answered casually, pulling on the leather trenchrobe and straightening his weapons. "Why France? I don't believe you'd need that just to go pick up some mustard." Sirius gestured at his outfit.  
  
"Some Death Eaters are having a party, so I'm going to crash it. Their Aurors have a slower response time than ours, so I might leave them something to clean up." Immediately most of the Order members present stood up, even as Harry morphed into Wraith. "We should come too," Sirius protested. "Why?" the disguised teen retorted. "There's only ten or so, and the French are already mad that the Order has been more effective than their forces. Don't worry, I'll be fine." With a "pop!" he Disapperated.  
  
Sirius plopped back down with a frustrated huff of air. "I wanted to bust some heads tonight." Most chuckled, but as thunder continues to roll Remus leaned over to ask, "What's wrong Padfoot?" Sirius sighed. "Life's unfair Moony. At this age, Harry should be chasing girls, not Death Eaters. Chronologically speaking, he's the second youngest here, but . . ." He trailed off, and Dumbledore finished his thought, "If age was measured by experiences, Harry would be older than me."  
  
Sirius nodded glumly. "He's acting more mature than I am. Look at this house." He gestured expansively around him, taking in the spotless but comfortable conditions. "He's living alone and it's perfectly clean. He's only sixteen, for Merlin's sake. I always thought . . . he'd be a miniature version of James. Y'know, a carefree prankster and ladies' man." He sighed heavily. "Well, it was a nice dream for awhile."  
  
Eva got up and announced, "If anyone else is hungry, I'm going to whip up some dinner." Molly and Arabella jumped up to help when they all expressed that suddenly they were famished, but most likely just wanted to escape the suddenly somber atmosphere. As the women laughed and joked over the cooking food, the others split up around the house to occupy themselves. Eredfire found Ginny and settled on her shoulder for her to pet as she listened to the chatter. Fred and George plotted in the game room, while Ron and Hermione found that the Astronomy tower here was a good place to snog, without the traffic the one at Hogwarts generated. The men remained in the living room, conversing on anything from the Order to Quidditch, until the women announced the food ready for consumption.  
  
Eva fixed a wonderful Italian dinner, and the conversations stayed light even as everyone kept an ear out for the front door. Harry had not yet returned by the time the dishes had been cleaned, so the guests split back up to their previous activities. Eva asked Ginny to accompany her down to the lab. "I'm brewing a couple potions and I would appreciate and extra set of hands. Want to help?" Ginny's eyes lit up. "Sure!"  
  
As Ginny chopped up some wolfsbane, Eva glanced up from stirring the cauldron and inquired gently, "Is there anything you'd like to talk with me about?" The redhead looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, there's . . . never mind." She hung her head and concentrated on her knife, the tips of her ears pink. "Oh, come on," Eva encouraged her. "I know there is, and you don't have many opportunities for girl time with all those brothers running around. Spill it." Ginny blushed. "It's Harry," she admitted. "I've had . . . well, a crush on him since forever, but I thought I got over it last year. But as soon as we received the invitation to come here, it . . . came back . . . full force."  
  
She gnawed her lower lip. "I can't help it, especially since he's gotten so . . ." "Sexy?" Eva suggested, slightly bantering. Ginny's eyes twinkled. "Damn sexy. He's brave, honest, smart, responsible, polite, a terrific dancer, and he has a great sense of humor." She giggled even as she blushed, and Eva pretended to fan herself, also giggling knowingly. "Every girl in Hogwarts wants him; you wouldn't believe the rumors and chatter that circulate around there. And he's completely oblivious to all of it. He's so modest." She sighed. "But I'm afraid he sees me only as Ron's little sister, the stupid scared first year he rescued in the Chamber of Secrets." Ginny turned to Eva, a slightly desperate look on her face. "What should I do?"  
  
Eva concentrated for a moment on the bubbling potion, weighing her words, then asked carefully, "Do you want him as a friend or your boyfriend?" Ginny looked sad, then thoughtful. "I want him to recognize me," she began slowly, "as my own person, to like me for who I am. I want to be Ginny, not Ron's little sister in his eyes." Eva nodded in understanding. "Just like he wants to be Harry, not the Boy Who Lived." She met and held Ginny's eyes. "He wants love, not mindless admiration for his name."  
  
Ginny pondered these words as they continued on the potion, then glanced sideways at her companion who was sprinkling witch hazel on the surface of the bright orange concoction. "You love him, don't you?" Eva briefly thought about it, ^Good thing they don't know about what really happened last night. It might have been misconstrued, and they'd tell Harry.^ "Yes. Probably not the way you mean, though. I love him as a sister and a friend. And there's just something about him that makes me want to mother him. He can be such a lost little puppy at times." She glared sharply at Ginny, who was stifling giggles. "Don't you dare tell him I said that," she warned, shaking a ladle at her. "I promise," Ginny snickered.  
  
Eva shook her head. "Anyway, just talk to him. Get to know him, share some things, let him see the real you. He's not stupid, but all men are oblivious to feelings usually. Harry could use a few more friends, and I believe he already sees you differently than you might expect. Just relax." For a few minutes they both focused on getting the potion to turn the correct shade of blue. "By the way, what is this stuff?" Ginny wrinkled her nose as a whiff of yellow smoke drifted by. "I've been experimenting with an old recipe, trying to improve on it. Hopefully it'll be a gift for Professor Lupin." Ginny's eyes widened in comprehension. "You mean like the Wolfsbane potion?" "Exactly."  
  
"What about this one?" she indicated another cauldron full of a bubbling neon green gel. "You know that prank I pulled on your brothers this morning? I'm making it into a sweet." Eva laughed. "I think I'll let them sell it in their shop. Should be a popular one." Ginny rolled her eyes. "They don't need any encouragement from you." As the cauldrons of potions frothed and boiled, the girls laughed and talked, sharing stories and friendship.  
  
From upstairs Eva heard a door creak open and slam shut. "Harry's back. C'mon." Ginny followed her up at a run. Harry stood in the front hallway, trenchrobe on the floor as he massaged one of his shoulders, muttering something about "Bloody frogs." Eva marched up to him, hands on her hips and demanded, "Alright, what happened?" He rolled his eyes and responded, "There's a reason why I hate France," groaning as he kneaded his shoulder. She led him to the living room and made him strip off his shirt. "It's nothing!" he protested, even as he winced when she probed the nasty looking gash.  
  
"Like hell it's nothing. Stay still, I'll need to clean this out." Eva hurried and collected one of the potion bottles. By now everyone else in the house had heard Harry was back and gathered downstairs. Eva handed him a washcloth, ordering, "Clean yourself up," as she started on his shoulder. "Harry, what happened?" Ginny repeated.  
  
Harry finished scrubbing the mud from his face and arms, took a deep breath and began once again to tell a story. "Near as I could tell, some local Death Eaters got pretty drunk and thought it would be fun to terrorize the Muggle village nearby. When I arrived, three houses were on fire and the idiots were sitting in the town square, torturing a Muggle family and laughing. One still had a bottle of wine in his hand." He shook his head. "I took care of them easily enough, but then things turned sour. I helped the villagers put out the fires and was trying to check the family when their Aurors finally showed up and confused me for a Death Eater.  
  
They started shooting Stunners everywhere, but just kept hitting the Muggles, their aim's so bad. Anyway, the villagers decided they'd had enough and started throwing rocks at us. One thing led to another, and soon it was a full out battle in the streets. One guy pulled out a rifle and fired a couple shots before they Stunned him. That's where I got this," he indicated his bandaged shoulder. "When I was Apparating out, one of the Aurors tried to hit me with another spell. It messed up my concentration, so I ended up somewhere in Asia, I think. I had to Obliviate a couple Muggles before I headed back."  
  
Eva frowned. "I cleaned up the graze, but you should leave the bandage on overnight, just to be sure. It'll take a bit longer to heal than your normal cuts and scrapes. And did you know that the other shoulder's dislocated? Or that you pulled two muscles in your back?" Harry frowned, a bit sheepishly. "Actually, no I didn't notice." Ron gaped at him. "How could you not notice that?!" Ignoring him, Eva huffed, "You will when you release the blocks. Better keep them up and put what I taught you into practice."  
  
Harry stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes. "You hungry?" He shook his head tiredly, then cracked an eye open to survey those gathered around him. "Sorry about that. I know you guys were only planning on staying one night, but you're all welcome to stay tonight, unless you need to return home of course." Dumbledore spoke up, "I had planned on having an Order meeting tonight. We need to discuss several important matters that have surfaced."  
  
Harry looked around. "Seems like you already have part of them here. If you want, you could have the meeting here. It's protected and undetectable." "Can you bring all of them here? I do not want to inconvenience you." "No problem, honest. Does Snape need to come too?" Dumbledore eyed him a bit suspiciously. "Yes, Severus' presence would be helpful, but he is in hiding. Not even I can contact him." Harry shook his head in amusement, then pried himself off the couch and headed for what appeared to be a blank wall.  
  
Pressing his hand against it, he muttered a few words in Latin, and the wall rippled and wavered like a mirage over hot pavement. Suddenly a door appeared, and Harry pushed it open, stepping into a large war room. The others followed, amazed. Sirius murmured, "You're just full of surprises Harry." The room was huge, with giant screens on the walls covered with glowing, moving dots. One wall held a bookcase filled with various tomes and scrolls, with a few parchments scattered in for good measure. In the center of the room stood an enormous mahogany table surrounded by comfortable looking chairs.  
  
Harry summoned his IMP to him as he checked one of the detection screens, noting the groupings of the green dots before scribbling quickly on the IMP. He asked without looking up, "When do you want the meeting to start?" Dumbledore checked his interesting pocket watch and calculated. "Say, in half an hour." Harry nodded, dashed off a final note and tapped it. "How many more are in the Order? Excluding Severus." "23. We've been recruiting more since Easter, including most of the Hogwarts professors and more Aurors." Collecting the requisite number of parchments and a quill, he dumped them in front of the headmaster. "Write a note calling the meeting on each one, include the names on the outside, and I'll send them. These'll also double as Portkeys to bring them here."  
  
Dumbledore looked amused. "You seem to like parchment Portkeys." Harry shrugged, smiling a bit sheepishly. "Easy to create and discard when needed. The only problem is these will only bring them as far as the outside barrier. Someone will need to go out and meet them." Arabella volunteered, "Just as long as I can get back in." The next several minutes were spent waiting and sending the summons to the various Order members.  
  
Ron leaned over and muttered in Hermione's ear, "They won't want us around for their secret meeting. What say we go check out the game room?" Despite his low voice, Dumbledore heard him. "Actually Mr. Weasley, I would like all of you to stay for the meeting. Some of it concerns you." 


	17. Order of the Phoenix

A/N: Okay peoples, don't you listen? Or in this case read? I have said it before, and I will say it again: I do not like romance. I hate writing it. This story will have a bit of R/H fluff every now and again to keep some unnamed people happy, but aside from that nothing. This is a strictly bachelor Harry fic. I am not against any particular ships, but for my purposes he will not be hooking up with anybody. Not Ginny, and not Eva. He's got enough problems without adding a girlfriend. That little scene in the lab was for establishing the fact that while Ginny and Harry might become better friends (if she would just stop drooling over him), he is not available. If you crave a good H/G story, don't look at me.  
  
*Breathes deeply and relaxes* Okay, enough ranting. On with the show. Review if you want more.  
  
Disclaimer: I only own the chick with the attitude. Yes, the exercise endorphins quote is paraphrased from Legally Blonde. All else is JKR's.  
  
Chapter 17  
  
Arabella escorted the entire Order of the Phoenix into the war room as they arrived. Many were staring around in amazement as they took their seats around the table. Harry stifled a yawn, then smiled as Eva handed him a strong cup of tea. *Thank you.* He sniffed appreciatively. *Much better than that coffee junk you like to drink. It's going to be a long night.*  
  
^Yep. Long, hard, and rough.^ Her eyes twinkled as he snorted into his cup. *You had to do that when I was drinking, didn't you?* He mock glared at her. ^What? I was just agreeing with you^ she protested with an innocent look.  
  
*It was the accompanying mental image, o evil one. Now quit that. This is serious.* Everyone was gathered around the table as Dumbledore sat, except for Harry who chose to prowl around the room.  
  
Dumbledore was a bit surprised to spot Severus seated halfway down the table, between Minerva McGonagall and Mundungus Fletcher. He dismissed it for later, and called the meeting to order and began. "First off, I know many of you are wondering about the presence of some non-Order members.  
  
"Misters Fred, George and Ronald Weasley, Miss Virginia Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger, would you please stand."  
  
The teens all rose from their seats, a bit apprehensive under the scrutiny of the adults. "After careful consideration and due deliberation, we would like to offer you all membership into the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
For a moment there was silence, as they gaped at the headmaster and the elder Weasleys, then Ginny spoke up. "What exactly does this membership entail?" Dumbledore gave a slight grin and explained, "We are an elite group dedicated to fighting the dark arts in any way possible. Normally we do not recruit until after graduation, but you three have proven yourselves.  
  
"You will be assigned different roles in the battles to come based on your individual strengths, and at Hogwarts you will be taking extra dueling classes to prepare you. As for you, Fred and George, you are excellently placed to monitor Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. You will also receive some preliminary Auror training. It will be very dangerous for all of you, so consider carefully."  
  
The five teens all glanced at each other with uncharacteristically solemn frowns, weighing the risks, then announced simultaneously, "I'm in." Dumbledore nodded in approval as Fawkes flew in the room and landed on the table. Bowing to the five new initiates in turn, he dropped a single tear in each of their right palms which sparkled before being absorbed.  
  
"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix." As they sat down again, Fawkes soared over to Harry and bowed deeply in greeting. {Hello again Lord Phoenix. It is good to see you well.} *Hello Fawkes. I'm glad to see you again as well. I never had the chance to thank you for your tears after Azkaban.*  
  
The phoenix ruffled his feathers. {It was the least I could do for the Lord Phoenix. We will talk more later.} He fluttered back to Dumbledore's shoulder as the headmaster continued.  
  
"As you all by now know, Severus has been our spy in the Death Eater ranks since before Voldemort's first defeat. We've been working on integrating more spies in, but they are still but initiates. Unfortunately, Severus was discovered a few days ago, and he barely escaped with his life. He will be in hiding until Hogwarts classes resume. Severus, if you would?"  
  
Snape cleared his throat and detailed his last Death Eater meeting. He particularly paid attention to the Dark Lord's reaction when Snape spat in his face; even Sirius laughed at that. However, he paused after he recalled passing out in the throne room, and one of the younger Aurors from the Ministry, a recent Ravenclaw graduate named Tori Black blurted out, "How did you escape?"  
  
Snape glared at her for a moment, but she simply returned his glare as she used to back in Hogwarts, and he gritted out, "I had help." "From whom?" McGonagall spoke up, hiding her amusement at Snape's discomfiture.  
  
"I believe you have all heard of Wraith," he sneered sarcastically. Harry had turned at the pretense of examining a wall screen, hiding his grin at the proceedings. The answer seemed to placate the Order, except for one.  
  
Mundungus Fletcher abruptly exclaimed, "Albus, who is this renegade running around? How do we know he isn't another Dark agent sent to infiltrate us? For all we know, he's working with You-Know-Who and they're planning these attacks as a way of gaining our trust."  
  
Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, seated opposite him, broke in with a disgusted snarl of "And people accuse me of being a conspiracy theorist. Just look at what Voldemort had lost due to Wraith's interventions. He doesn't have that many Death Eaters to spare. Not to mention that Wraith almost died at Azkaban helping us.  
  
"What I want to know, Albus," he turned his attention from the blustering old man to the distinguished one at the end of the table, "Is who he is and why isn't he a member of this Order? Merlin knows we could use his information, wherever he gets it."  
  
Dumbledore's mustache quivered as he fought a grin. "Wraith may come as a surprise to many of you. As to why he is not technically a member, well," he paused, thinking of the best way to phrase it, "the simplest explanation is that he does not need to be, yet he is already."  
  
Several people were quite perplexed at his statement; actually, everybody was. As Tori opened her mouth to ask for clarification, another voice silenced her. "He means that the head of the Order is both a part yet apart from it."  
  
They all turned to Harry, who stood against the far wall with his hands clasped behind his back in a parade rest. "The head? Albus is the head of the Order." McGonagall looked confused as Dumbledore shook his head.  
  
"Indeed I am not. That position belongs to the Phoenix Lord, and I am not he." "And this Wraith is?" Fletcher asked suspiciously. "You mentioned once, Potter, that you know Wraith." Harry chuckled dryly. "Of course I do. He's me."  
  
His features shifted and morphed in the blink of an eye to the mysterious wizard the Ministry owed so much to, and he smiled as several gasps and exclamations of shock were heard. "Potter?! How . . . what . . . impossible!" McGonagall spluttered.  
  
"I assure you it is quite possible, and even the truth." Harry discreetly removed the remaining mental blocks on the members present that Halloween, then continued. "I felt it necessary to keep this secret until it became imperative that you should all know. I find that working in the shadows is very useful, especially when no one knows who I am."  
  
He nodded to Mad Eye. "I have on occasion passed information along, such as the Azkaban invasion. As to where I get it, you're looking at it." He gestured to the screens behind him. "At first I did the spying myself, but that has become too dangerous, unfruitful and basically impossible. Voldemort's forces have increased and formed cells in over 12 countries, so I've devised another way to track them."  
  
Harry pointed out clusters of red dots. "These represent Death Eaters, while the orange are their supporters who are not initiated. The blue dots are the Ministry forces in each country, specifically those who directly deal with the dark arts. Yellow are our spies. This group of blinking green is us, the Order of the Phoenix. It's blinking because this house is completely Unplottable and undetectable to anything but this map."  
  
Tori pointed out a single black dot. "And what is that?" "That is Voldemort." A few people in the room shivered, and others winced. Harry scowled. "Quit that. There's no reason to be scared of a name. Anyway, Voldemort," he emphasized the name as he turned back to the map, "is hard to keep track of. The dot appears and disappears at times, I think due to the influence of the demons, which are indicated in gray."  
  
Arthur rose and inspected the screen with appreciation. "Why don't we have one of these over at the Ministry?" Several of the Aurors agreed, with Tori being the most vocal. Harry shook his head. "Too dangerous." He pulled on a pair of fingerless gloves and started directing the screen. He zoomed in on the Ministry building in London, displaying the inner workings of the government.  
  
"See? Despite your best efforts Voldemort still has several spies in the Ministry itself, and more might turn. Even the Aurors aren't completely immune, and security is not the best. What can really turn this war for us is secrecy, and that we can track their movements without them knowing. Frankly, I don't trust anyone outside this room."  
  
Just them there was a flurry of movement from a bunch of red and gray dots. "What the hell?" Harry muttered as he watched. Everyone sat up and focused intently as he tracked what was happening. Without looking he summoned two small spheres, tapped them twice with a whispered word and they shimmered before disappearing.  
  
Another screen off to the side lit up like a Muggle TV set to show moving scenery. "Harry, what . . .?" "Spy cams. Muggles have several ingenious inventions that can be adaptable to magic. This was we can see and hear what is really going on." He evaluated the scene before him, mumbling, "Okay, looks like there's a big meeting over in the Ukraine."  
  
The main screen now showed a mass of crimson surrounding the black dot like the aura around a black hole. Words appeared over each dot, the names of the people they represented. The red was joined by a group of orange, and Harry frowned.  
  
"Damn." He glanced at the images the spy cams transmitted back, which confirmed his suspicions. "It's a Death Eater initiation ceremony. Looks like we're not the only ones recruiting in school." The names hovering over the dots corresponded to the majority of the fifth through seventh year Slytherins, with a few adults joining them. Hermione saw Draco on the screen, standing next to his father and looking smug and excited, and she shivered in disgust.  
  
The Order grimly observed as one by one the children were initiated into the Death Eater ranks and their dots turned blood red. Some screamed as Voldemort himself branded the Dark Mark into their arms, and Snape shuddered as he grabbed his own. They were given new robes and masks and joined the circle surrounding their new master.  
  
Harry shook his head and muttered, "Congratulations. You've now been branded his slave, to do his bidding until he decides you are expendable. You'll be lucky if you get out alive." Silence descended over both groups of people watching as Voldemort began his speech.  
  
"My loyal friends, our forces are increasing daily. Soon we will be strong enough to topple the bumbling Ministry and institute our own Dark Order." A short cheer rang out, led by the enthusiastic new members. "But first, we must remove a few nuisances from our path. Thos Muggle loving fools Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore." His sneer was almost palpable in these words.  
  
"They have managed to annoy me and complicate our plans more than once. Weaver, what of your preparations for the Ministry?" A short masked man stepped forward. "My lord, the initial organization and coordination is done. Our spies have managed to send us some very useful information on the Minister's schedule that reveal when our attack should take place. We will be ready in two weeks."  
  
The glowing red eyes narrowed in satisfaction. "Very well. Now, my younger Death Eaters, your first assignment is to report back to Hogwarts in September as per usual. To those few who can be discreet about it, try and recruit your classmates. Your main task, however, is to scout out the castle and report back its secrets, its defenses, anything you can find and we can exploit.  
  
"If my dear Professor Snape shows his face, you have my blessing to convey my . . . displeasure with him. Do not kill him, and do not be caught." Voldemort glared with his hideous eyes. "Oh yes, and the same applies to Harry Potter. That infuriating little boy will soon learn the consequences of challenging me. I will make him suffer the pain of a thousand deaths before I kill him and all he holds dear."  
  
While the Dark Lord was pontificating, Harry was conversing silently with Eva in the corner. After a few moments she nodded and glided unnoticed out the door. Harry concentrated on a tome he pulled out of the bookcase onto a side table, flipping pages here and there.  
  
Ron leaned over to Hermione and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Is this guy in love with the sound of his own voice or what?" She tried to scowl at him, but a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. More minor reports were made, the various Order members taking notes and already plotting how to counter their plans.  
  
As the meeting wore on, Voldemort started again on his irritating speeches, reveling in his plans to defeat Harry Potter and conquer the world like he did every night.  
  
Abruptly Voldemort's voice cut off in mid-rant, but his lipless mouth continued to move for a few seconds. The assembled ranks shifted nervously, and suddenly his voice was back. Except now he sounded like a hyperactive house elf on helium.  
  
He appeared shocked and enraged for a moment, then with a *snap!* *crackle!* *pop!* his skin turned lime green with orange polka dots. A neon pink fro sprouted from his head decorated with bows, his tall thin form shrunk until he now stood knee-high. Finally the robes vanished to be replaced with a matching pink leotard with yellow smiley faces, and a pink tutu.  
  
For an eternal moment utter silence dominated. Then Fred and George caught each other's eye and cracked up, setting off a wave of gasping laughter that swept over the entire Order. Even Snape was seen snickering. On the screen, the majority of Death Eaters were coughing, trying to hide their sniggers. Then Crabbe guffawed, and soon they were giggling like a bunch of kids who had had too many cookies at snack time.  
  
Voldemort started yelling at them, but his voice only set them off further. Furious, he tried to curse them all with the Cruciatus, but found that he could no longer lift his wand as it was almost as tall as he was. Even the most hardened Aurors and sadistic Death Eaters had tears in their eyes, and several were doubled over with laughter.  
  
Obviously they could be forgiven for failing to notice the shadowy figure that crept among them until the first couple Death Eaters dropped, not from laughter but from Stunning spells. Their bodies shimmered then disappeared. With that complete chaos broke loose.  
  
The robed and masked wizards ran around confusedly, searching for their attacker, who kept to the shadows while cursing them left and right. More collapsed and vanished, sowing more panic. The new initiates at first tried to hold their ground by their chosen master, until a swarm of snakes appeared at their feet ready to strike.  
  
Draco, identifiable even beneath the mask, shrieked like a five year old girl and ran into the woods, followed closely by his father and the remainder of the standing Death Eaters. After a few moments, the only one visible on the screen was Voldemort, still in his tutu.  
  
Harry stepped forward and transformed into Wraith as he muttered a few words, invoking a glow around the screen. Obviously this enabled Voldemort to see him, because his discolored face screwed up in pure hatred and he began shouting furious threats.  
  
Harry chuckled. "I must say, pink is definitely not your color." A colorful stream of invectives, none of them pink, was directed at that comment.  
  
"This has been a productive evening. Another 19 insects to add to my collection. Although I'm still missing the head cockroach. And look, you drones have abandoned you. You know, you just can't find good help nowadays in the dregs of society."  
  
Harry shook his head in mock sadness, then abruptly turned dead serious. "You know as well as I that your days are numbered. I'm coming for you, and when we meet again fate will be decided once and for all." He laughed, a low threatening chuckle that sent chills down one's spine, then with a snap the glow vanished and the spy images blinked out.  
  
Harry turned back and allowed the persona to dissolve as he faced the Order. Mad Eye Moody demanded, "What the bloody hell was that for?" But before he received an answer, Eva entered, practically swaggering. Harry made eye contact, she nodded and smirked, and he smiled.  
  
He answered Moody's question, "A distraction." He gestured at Eva. "She was sent to abduct three particular Death Eaters who were getting a little too close to deciphering the clues to finding the second talisman. The rest was purely misdirection and comic relief. Speaking of that," his eyes lit up with a diabolical gleam, "does anybody want copies of that picture?"  
  
A still image of Voldemort in that ridiculous prank outfit sprang to life on the screen, and immediately several people raised their hands, including the twins, Tori, and Sirius. Fred grinned. "We should frame this . . ." "And put it up in the shop!" George finished, his eyes twinkling.  
  
Dumbledore chuckled at their enthusiasm, then sobered. "Well, this changes a few things. What should we do about the Death Eaters?" Mundungus snorted. "What do you mean? We arrest the bleeding lot of them and ship them off to . . ." "Azkaban? You forget it's not longer safe nor secure. Besides, we cannot arrest them without proof."  
  
Tori protested, "But we just saw . . ." "Yes, but our testimony based on an unknown magical object is not enough. I believe what I saw, but that is not proof enough for a warrant. Remember, we are not above the legal system." Dumbledore sounded tired but firm.  
  
Mundungus slammed his fist on the table as he stood. "Damn it man, we are in a war. In war all rules are thrown out the window if you want to win. We know they're guilty, and all we need for proof is that stinking Mark on their arm. Hell, that son of a bitch is recruiting students in Hogwarts now. Do you want to keep the students safe or not?"  
  
Several people also stood up, and for a moment it looked like the beginning of a Jerry Springer show. Harry spoke up calmly. "Dumbledore is right. If for no other reason than publicity, this Order needs to act within the boundaries of the law. If the wizarding public gets word that we are arresting people at home without a warrant, or barring students form returning to classes, they'll turn against us."  
  
Snape scowled. "Then what do you propose we do?" "Catch them in the act." Harry began to slowly prowl around the table. "As much as I'd like nothing more than to take a preemptive strike on these idiots, their tendency towards secrecy shields them to some degree. And the Ministry no longer has adequate facilities to hold them either. People are starting to notice when their 'fine upstanding' neighbors disappear, but we can't afford the luxury of holding them until trial."  
  
He gnawed his lower lip as he thought. "At Hogwarts I've been using a Detection Parchment and personal alarm to track attacks I can make more to improve our response time, but it'll take about a week. Once we catch a few and interrogate them for more names, we can start moving in on the others, with the help of the Aurors and the law in general. The sooner we can expose them the more we can discourage others from joining."  
  
A few Aurors nodded in satisfaction, but McGonagall was not. "What about those at Hogwarts?" she pressed, and Harry grimaced. "If we can catch them during an attack, that would be great. But since it seems like their role will be spying and harassment, we can feed them misinformation. That could actually help us if Voldemort believes them.  
  
"At Hogwarts I can put up some more protections, specific to hide the true wards while strengthening them. Also, Severus is a target, as am I. We can add discretionary wards and alarms to his office, quarters, and the Gryffindor Tower. The professors in general need to keep and eye out for recruitment efforts and directed harassment from the Slytherins. Any other suggestions?"  
  
The Order used this as an invitation for an open forum, and for some time friendly debates and discussions echoed through the room. Several plans were introduced and rejected, tempers rose and fell, questions asked and answered. Sirius pulled Harry to the side at one point, while Mundungus and Arabella were having a heated argument, and quietly chuckled before he said, "You are such a hypocrite."  
  
Harry looked bemused, so his godfather continued. "Lecturing us about staying within the boundaries of the law and all that jazz, when you've been running around like a vigilante for the last nine months. Just tonight you kidnapped 19 Death Eaters. Breaking every possible school rule and Merlin knows how many laws. And didn't you know that flying motorcycles are now illegal?" His eyes twinkled as Harry just gave him a look.  
  
"You know as well as I that unfortunately the rules are always bent or broken when it comes to me. I do what I need to in this war against Voldemort, and I have the means to stay out of trouble while doing it. You do not. I have responsibilities that for some reason Fate has decreed that only I can deal with, so at this point I really do not care about the laws of this world, nor about my public image since that can be altered and hidden.  
  
"The Order, on the other hand, must present a unified front against tyranny and lawlessness. That is why I am letting Albus remain as the head of the Order. He can be a general, while I am a guerilla." He stared Sirius straight in the eye during his little speech, and the ex convict simply stared back before heading back to the main table, his emotions rioting within him. Who knew being a godfather to a War Mage could be so difficult?  
  
Albus had pulled Fred and George over to the side to speak with them about their Auror training. "With your skills at, shall we say, creative mischief," his blue eyes were twinkling brightly, "I believe that you would help us the most by utilizing them in the areas of surveillance and exotic weaponry. I hate to have to direct your energy this way, but I must ask you if you can develop some of your pranks into debilitating or even lethal weapons."  
  
He met their gaze solemnly, conveying the impact of his suggestion. With none of their character mischief, the twins agreed. "Good. Then we need to have you take some preliminary Auror training, and be updated on current counter surveillance techniques." He waved over two Aurors to join them and introduced them to the twins. "Fred, you will be working with Cody "Spike" Williams, and George will be with Tori Black."  
  
Fred mock whined, "How come he gets the cute one?" Albus fought a smile as he continued, "Tori will also work with both of you on developing and distributing your new inventions." George blushed as Tori smiled at him, and found himself admiring the way the light shone on her hair before shaking himself out of it.  
  
By the time the meeting broke up well after midnight, a firm battle plan had been established and they all went home happy but exhausted. The people staying at the house wandered upstairs and collapsed in their respective beds to sleep soundly until morning.  
  
They awoke late to the sound of Harry and Eva bickering in the kitchen, and descended sleepy-eyed and tousle- headed to observe as they ate. It was quite amusing, almost as much as Hermione and Ron's fights, as Harry and Eva had obviously been sparring earlier and there was a question on whether or not a particular move had been executed properly.  
  
The debate was settled when, fast as a cobra strike, Eva leapt at him and in a rapid flurry of movement had him pinned on the ground. "See? That's how you do it properly." Harry scowled at her. "How did I do it earlier?"  
  
She helped him up, then showed him by tackling him back down. This time however, he was able to twist out of her hold and within seconds had her pinned beneath him. She grinned. "Good, perfect execution of the counterattack. Know what you did wrong now?" "Yep, my hands were placed incorrectly for the proper amount of leverage."  
  
Harry hoisted her to her feet then joined the others at the table with a glass of milk. "Morning." Ron groused, "How can you be so cheerful this early?" Harry grinned infuriatingly. "Exercise releases endorphins in your body. Endorphins make you happy, and happy people don't kill people in the mornings," he chirped with a saccharine sweet smile.  
  
Ron scowled and promptly threw a bowl of cereal at his head.  
  
Sirius caught Harry's eye. "Harry, can I try out your bike later?" Harry shrugged. "Just be nice to it." The he smirked and stage whispered, "Hey, if you're really nice, Eva might take a shine to you and get you one too." "Not bloody likely," Eva interjected with a snort.  
  
She sat down by Molly and addressed Dumbledore, "So, what are your plans for their training?" She indicated the newest and youngest Order members. "I have an idea about what they should learn, but the actual details have not been worked out yet," the headmaster admitted.  
  
Eva's eyes sparkled. "I thought so. How about they stay here for the rest of the summer, and Harry and I can train them. We have the facilities and capabilities, plus it's protected."  
  
Ron interrupted, "Oi! Harry hasn't seen our new house yet. We'll need to stay there at least a couple days before we go back to Hogwarts." He glanced at his mum for approval, and she nodded her agreement. "Yes, and they'll need to get their school supplies too."  
  
Eva relented, "All right. We have three weeks before school resumes, so two weeks here and a week at the Burrow." All those involved readily agreed, and the details worked out quickly. Ron, Harry and Sirius all headed outside so Sirius could ride the Shadow.  
  
The two friends watched as he took off with a roar and a yell of sheer joy, then they sat down on the porch to talk for a while. It had been so long since they had indulged in guy talk together, so they enjoyed it immensely and spent a lot of time laughing. As the sun rose higher in the sky, their conversation inevitably turned to war.  
  
"I'm scared," Ron admitted, a bit uncomfortably. "About which part?" Harry looked over at him as he reclined back on his elbows. "All of it." He gestured helplessly with one hand. "I mean, we're only 16. I want to focus on girls, school, and Quidditch, not necessarily in that order," he smiled.  
  
Harry continued his line of thought, "and instead we're considering death, torture, and destruction of our world." Ron nodded, and for a moment there was silence. Abruptly Harry said, "I'm scared too." The redhead started at that, and stared a bit shocked as Harry gazed at his hands.  
  
"I'm scared of what might happen, the choices I'll have to make, and . . . everything. I'm scared . . . that I'll fail." An awkward pause, then he resumed in a quieter voice, "I get this feeling, y'know, that this will be over soon. And one way or another, I don't have much time left here."  
  
Before his friend could comment, a low roar was heard, then Sirius came soaring back in to land in the yard, grinning ecstatically. Harry got up with a small smile as his godfather babbled on, leaving Ron to his own thoughts. 


	18. History Lesson

A/N: I am so sorry about the long wait, especially since people have become accustomed to me updating every few days or so. Updates will be slower, as the semester draws to a close and I need to finish a lot of projects. Also, I'm taking time off to finish writing the story in my hard copy. I know what I'm doing, I just have to get there. I'm trying for updates as soon as possible, but no promises. I refuse to sacrifice the quality of the story just for the sake of updating faster. So thanks for your patience.  
  
Also, I occasionally write poetry and short stories, so check out some of my original stuff. Find something you like and review.  
  
Dedication and thanks to leaf for being my 200th reviewer. You gave me the kick in the butt to post this chapter. And clifjumpr13, you forgot witches. *winks cheekily*  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, so give the lawyers a rest.  
  
Chapter 18  
  
The adults left before lunch, heading back to their jobs and lives. As they were saying goodbye, Eva gave Remus a hug then passed him a wrapped package. At his questioning look, she said, "The next full moon's in two days, right?" He nodded and she whispered conspiratorially, "It's a gift. Take this instead of the Wolfsbane, and call me in the morning." She clapped him on the back then turned to the twins. They looked a bit nervous and backed up a step as she grinned and extended a hand. "Good luck with your shop. Oh," she snapped her fingers, "I almost forgot. Here." Eva handed Fred a purple drawstring bag, and George a green pouch. They examined them suspiciously and she laughed at their paranoia.  
  
"My little gift to two very creative pranksters. George has a special hard candy that, after 30 seconds of sucking, recreates what I did to you and Voldemort." She leaned in impishly. "Us that delightful photo as a promotional piece." George's eyes lit up with excitement as figures danced through his head. That could boost their sales another 30% as he calculated it, and considering the immense popularity of the new shop, that was saying something. Fred indicated his bag. "And this?" "Is a special recipe that needs to be put into some kind of sweet or toy, you decide. I believe Harry pulled something on you called the 'chocolate episode,' did he not?" Immediately they winced, then twin evil grins blossomed on their faces. She sniggered and said "Just don't try it on Ginny. I taught her some tips for revenge."  
  
The boys nodded, taking the warning very seriously. Eva then gave each of the adults a small bit of advice and a hug goodbye as they Portkeyed away. Soon only the teenagers were left in the house with a crazy supernatural trainer. Eva and Harry immediately took the others down to the gym to start training. Harry worked with Ron separately to expound on the lessons given during the school year, while Eva started Hermione and Ginny on basic workouts. After a quick lunch they headed to the dueling room to practice magical dueling. Hermione was quite good at this, except Eva had to keep yelling at her to employ more physical facets to combat, such as dodging. Ginny, while not quite as strong on spellcasting as her friend, made up for it with creativity and making herself a tough target to hit. Probably had lots of practice from her brothers over the years.  
  
Eva tested all their limits and weaknesses, and then sent them to the library with different spells and concepts to research. Hermione was delighted, and was soon surrounded by stacks of books that she was poring over with delight. Ron just groaned but started flipping through some old tomes in search of pertinent information. Meanwhile Eva created a training schedule for them to follow over the next two weeks, then a separate one for Harry to supervise while they were at the Burrow and Hogwarts. He helped by giving her input into his friends' personalities and specific weaknesses to be worked on. Weight training, running, and martial arts in the mornings, dueling in the afternoons, research after dinner until bed. She intended to push them hard and far for the short time they were with her. Harry looked over the schedule and grinned wryly. "C'mon, this is nothing like the schedule you worked out for me," he protested playfully. She snorted indelicately. "No shit. I had to transform you from a skinny little schoolboy to a warrior capable of some serious ass kicking. Don't have to do anything so drastic with your friends. So whine all you want about unequal treatment." He just rolled his eyes.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Two weeks later the fire in the Burrow blazed green, announcing the arrival of three teens by Floo powder. Since Harry absolutely despised that form of travel, he chose to Apparate over with their stuff. Molly came forward to greet her children and gasped at their appearances. Under Eva's strict tutelage, their skills had increased dramatically in different forms of combat, and their physical fitness had improved with it. The girls developed significant muscle tone and more curves, showing off their athletic builds, and Ron had added muscles to his lanky frame, making him appear slightly older and more mature, not to mention that much more delicious in Hermione's eyes. Molly remarked over their changes loudly while the twins gaped slightly in the background.  
  
With a "pop" Harry appeared in the living room with their bags, and was immediately embraced tightly by Mrs. Weasley. He just smiled as he endured one of her infamous breathtaking hugs, and then greeted the rest of the family warmly. She immediately began fussing over them all, and they sat down in the dining room for tea while they chatted about their training and the actions of the Order of the Phoenix. Apparently with the information gathered at the last meeting, several spies had been flushed out and arrested, and the planned attack on the Ministry was thwarted. Unfortunately many of the Death Eaters had managed to escape and avoid identification, so it was a mixed bag of results. Harry turned to the twins. "And how goes your Auror training?" Fred grimaced. "I swear, that Spike Williams is absolutely nuts. You know, the git with the bleached blond hair? He had me doing stuff I never would have imagined," but then he shrugged and grumbled reluctantly, "But he is skilled and a bloody good teacher." Then he grinned. "Ask George what he thinks of his trainer," he sang out with a knowing smirk on his face.  
  
When they turned to the other twin, George blushed a bit and ducked his head. "Uh, yeah, Tori's great. She's really tough and keeps me on my toes, but a good teacher." Fred arched an eyebrow, but his twin ignored him. "She's also a natural prankster." Now his face lit up. "She helped me develop a couple new ideas for the shop, as well as stuff that the Order can use. We got this idea to create these little capsules that store curses and hexes, so you can throw them. You can curse Death Eaters multiple times quickly and from a longer distance." Hermione nodded in understanding. "So it's like a Muggle hand grenade." "I guess. Fred and I are still working on the exact detonation time, but I think it's going to work great."  
  
The days spent at the Weasleys were more relaxed and fun, with Quidditch and Diagon Alley to compensate for the grueling training program Harry kept them on. The annual school supplies trip was much more fun than the previous years, and the teens quickly bought all their supplies as well as new robes before they went and played around. At first Harry tolerated the outright stares and whispers that his presence caused, for after all he had not been seen in public outside Hogwarts in over a year, since the aftermath of the Triwizard Tournament. Soon, though, it became very annoying, especially when they spotted a fan club of sorts following them around. Outside Flourish and Blotts, one girl abruptly darted up, threw her arms around Harry and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. Irritated and flushing bright crimson, he pried her off roughly and fairly fled into Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron followed snickering, with Hermione and Ginny right behind him trying to hold in their giggles at the scene. Once out of sight and hidden in the back amongst the stacks of team robes and shirts, Harry whipped out his staff, muttered a quick incantation, and his features morphed, the hair shortened, and the clothes transfigured. Soon a stranger was standing in front of their eyes.  
  
"Where do you want to go next?" Harry asked his snickering friends, drawing their attention back from watching out the window at the clustered girls yelping around the brazen one. Ron gaped at his new look for a second, then blurted out, "I'm hungry." "Should we head back to the Leaky Cauldron?" Ginny peeked out and said, "Your groupies are gone. The coast is clear." "Ice cream is better. Let's head over to Fontescue's." Before Hermione could protest at the lack of nutritional value, Ron dragged them all out of the shop and toward the ice cream parlor. Half an hour later they were walking unperturbed along Diagon Alley, savoring chocolate and raspberry ice creams and window shopping. The girls ogled new dress robes at Madame Malkins, while Harry and Ron snuck off briefly to find Hermione a birthday gift. Ron found the perfect bracelet in a store less than fifteen minutes later, and the boys got back while the girls were still trying on the latest fashions, oblivious to the fact that they had left. Ron smiled as he watched his girlfriend twirl around in a silk dress dyed blueberry with slight silver accents and giggle. The rest of the day passed in a blur, and after a delicious supper at the Leaky Cauldron the teens Flooed back to the Burrow. The next day was September 1st, the start of the new Hogwarts term, so everyone was in bed early.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
That night Harry had a dream that, for once, he was looking forward to. As his physical body slept, his consciousness materialized in the ancient city where Death was waiting. She greeted him with a nod which he returned, then started toward the same room where they had parted previously without a word. Harry followed her closely, questions pressing at his mind but he restrained himself, knowing that answers were forthcoming if he could just be patient for a bit longer. Once seated across from each other on the stone floor in the cave-like room, Death spoke.  
  
"What do you know about the Phoenix Lords?" Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. "Just that they were the most powerful war mages and the head of the Order of the Phoenix. They were pretty secretive and died out over a millennia ago. I attained that level and title when I mastered my abilities." Death sighed and shook her head, and Harry blushed a bit. He was the Phoenix Lord, yet he did not really know what that meant. Eva had not been able to tell him a lot, and now that he thought about it, she had managed to deflect many of his questions about that title. "That is not entirely true," Death's voice shook him from his thoughts, and she reached out to touch his forehead. Immediately his vision blanked out.  
  
Gradually a scene came into focus in his mind, a pure white hospital room with lots of flowers, and three people standing there. A young woman with long red hair reclined on the bed, cradling a bundle in her arms, while a man with messy dark hair and glasses stood conversing quietly with an aged man with a long silver beard. The volume slowly rose as if the knob on a radio was being turned up.  
  
"Congratulations James. He's a beautiful baby." "Thank you Albus. I can hardly believe it. I'm a daddy." James ran a hand through his hair and grinned, then stepped over to his wife to cradle her shoulders as they gazed lovingly down at the wrapped bundle. "He's beautiful, just like my Lily. He even has her eyes." He gave her a quick kiss as Albus smiled and glanced around at the flowers and tokens. "I see the rest of the Marauders have already come by. I take it they are just as excited as you are."  
  
James nodded, grinning widely as his eyes twinkled with mischief. "Yep. Sirius was so happy we name him godfather he started running around yelling and shooting off sparks and streamers from his wand. The nurses almost kicked him out of the hospital entirely for disturbing the peace of the ward." Albus chuckled with amusement. "I doubt they had much success." "Nope." James shook his head, chuckling. "Remus had to restrain him before the nurses stunned him, although Remus was nearly as bad. At least he waited until he was outside." Lily giggled as a small fist emerged from the blankets to grab a lock of long red hair and grasp it tightly. "You, my little one, will be so spoiled by your godfather." Albus cleared his throat. "What have you decided to name him?" The new mother spoke softly, almost reverently. "Harry. Harry James Potter. Our son."  
  
The headmaster opened his mouth to comment on the name, but something stopped him. A bright golden light had materialized out of nowhere and took the shape of a phoenix, which fluttered gracefully over to the bed next to Lily and the baby. A trill of song resounded through the room as the bird regarded the green-eyed baby watching it with interest. The adults could only stare as the phoenix laid its pure gold head on the baby's forehead, and the bird vanished. But now the baby was glowing the same shade of gold. He giggled as the aura sparkled around him like a living cloud of faeries, and a deep voice, more sensed than heard, echoed through their minds.  
  
"Harry James Potter, Child of Light. He shall be the Phoenix Lord, destined for greatness, and the warrior for the Light." The glow faded away from the baby boy, lingering a bit on his right hand and left shoulder, then all was normal again, except for the shocked looks on the adults' faces. Lily inspected her baby with concern, but could find nothing out of the ordinary as Harry giggled and reached for her nose. James met Albus' eyes with slight panic and wonder. "What in the name of Merlin just happened?" he demanded. For once in living memory, Albus Dumbledore was at a loss for an explanation.  
  
The scene faded and another appeared, this time of a well-furnished living room. Lily sat with her feet propped up in the armchair, while James held the baby close to his chest, humming softly. They seemed to be waiting for something. That something was revealed when the fire crackling merrily in the hearth turned green and Albus stepped through, brushing soot from his beard. He was carrying a leather-bound book embossed with a golden depiction of crossed swords under a phoenix. He met the parents' eyes with a serious look and sat in an armchair between them, flipping open the book on his lap.  
  
"I have found something that may explain a little bit. How much do you know about the war mages?" James looked clueless, but Lily pursed her lips in thought. "I believe they were an ancient race of powerful wizards, who came from the destruction of Atlantis if I remember correctly." She looked questioningly at Albus, and he nodded in confirmation. "Yes. They died out over a millennium ago, and much of their knowledge has been lost, as well as their culture. Little remains of it, but what we do know is that they were extraordinarily powerful and advanced. Many of their technology that was recovered is still in use today. After searching through the archives I found this." He waved a hand down at the book. "It is a record of a group called the Order of the Phoenix."  
  
James sat on the couch wit baby Harry asleep in his arms to settle in for a long story. "It was an order made up of the bravest of the war mages, all armed with a variety of skills. They were dedicated to fighting the Dark Forces which caused the destruction of Atlantis, sworn to prevent history from repeating itself." Albus looked thoughtful. "I have been considering starting up something similar to this. A group of loyal people to combat these new Dark times, to protect the Light, utilizing every possible skill we could." He cleared his throat. "But we'll discuss that later. The Order of the Phoenix was led by the most powerful of the war mages, whom they called the Phoenix Lord. Apparently they earned the name because this Phoenix Lord always had a phoenix as a familiar. However, I came across this strange passage here . . ." he flipped another page and began to read.  
  
"After Mak'ile left this world, we as the Order had no leader. Who could shoulder the burden, and more accurately, who had the right? No one seemed adequate, for Mak'ile had a sense of tremendous power and wisdom that enshrouded him like a cloak. An almost otherworldly presence hung about him, incomprehensible to us mortals. His parting words still lingered in our ears after he disappeared. 'Take heart, for even as I depart another will come to take my place.' We debated amongst ourselves as to the meaning of these cryptic words, and several times nearly came to blows. But within the week, a stranger appeared in our tribe. He called himself Shona, and carried the same marking our former leader had on his hand and shoulder. That night around the campfire, the phoenix who would only respond to Mak'ile suddenly returned to camp to alight at Shona's side. When we inquired after these strange familiarities, he simply smiled and said, 'I am the Phoenix Lord for this era.' Immediately we sensed the same aura about him, and questioned our leader no more." Albus slapped the book shut and gazed tiredly at the Potters.  
  
"There is more, but this illustrates it the best. These Phoenix Lords were strangers with incredible powers, and there are indications that they were not entirely . . . well, human." Now the new parents looked decidedly alarmed. Lily's voice shook a bit as she said, "But . . . does that mean . . . what about Harry?" Dumbledore shook his hoary head. "I don't know what this all means, but I assure you Harry is human. You should know, you created him." The Potters blushed a bit as Albus' eyes twinkled a bit. "But he does have the faint indications of marking on his hand and shoulder, not to mention what the voice said." He patted the book. ""Every Phoenix Lord in this book was completely unknown until the moment he or she presented themselves at the disappearance of the previous Lord. There is no record of birth or death. They appeared for around 50 years, then just vanished into thin air and the next one popped up. This 'otherworldly presence' or aura seemed to be a prerequisite that the Order members could detect once the Lord was identified."  
  
James gazed concernedly down at this slumbering infant son. "But again, what does that mean for Harry?" Albus sighed deeply. "I have absolutely no idea. Harry is . . . unique. All I am able to offer is what I have just said." The three adults all sat in silence, staring at the oblivious baby. Lily spoke up after a few minutes. "We need to do something." The row makes looked at her, and she explained, "Voldemort keeps gaining more power each day, and he's targeting anyone who is a threat to him. I know we are already on his top ten hit list. What will happen if he finds out about Harry?" James murmured, "Child of Light, Phoenix Lord, destined for greatness, and warrior for the light," his tone soft but his expression horrified t the thought of Voldemort's reaction to those words. "Not to mention the fact that he is a tri-heir." Albus nodded solemnly.  
  
"I don't believe anyone else knows about this, but spies are everywhere nowadays." He sighed and thought for a minute. "This is too dangerous to keep to ourselves. I suggest memory charms." Lily looked startled. "But . . ." He held up a hand to stop her. "I know it is a risk, especially if Harry begins to exhibit new powers that we do not know how to deal with. But there is a greater risk to all our lives if Voldemort discovers this." James walked over to Lily and handed Harry gently to her, then hugged them both tightly. The communicated silently with their eyes the way only those deeply in love can understand, then turned to Albus with resolute faces. "Let's do it."  
  
The old headmaster nodded and drew his wand. "Better put Harry down on the couch. Infants don't have the same tolerance for charms." Lily placed her baby down carefully on the sofa and stepped back over to her husband, yet keeping an eye on her son. Dumbledore muttered a word, and a faint bubble encompassed them. "To make sure we all have the same charm placed at the same time." With a little wave the book vanished from the chair it was left on, and then Albus clearly pronounced, "Obliviate." A flash of light filled the bubble, and then the scene faded, and Harry found himself in the underground room again, face to face with Death.  
  
He swallowed hard through a dry throat, trying to push back a rush of emotions in order to speak, but words failed him in the turmoil of his mind. Death could sense his questions and began to weave her tale together. "After the destruction of Atlantis, the wizards knew they had to separate from the Muggle society and go into hiding. Suspicions ran high and both societies blamed the other for the catastrophe. Yet the Dark forces responsible for the disaster still existed, threatening both of them, so the war mages banded together to protect the innocent. With their divisive nature however, they ended up fighting each other more often than not. The Guardians decided to send down someone to guide them and lead them. The powers have a hierarchy. The beings directly below the Guardians are called the Shamak'la, and they were sent down one by one to manifest as the Phoenix Lord of the Order of the Phoenix of the war mages. They led and shaped the world as you know it, separating from yet protecting Muggles and guarding against the rise of the Dark Arts.  
  
"Gradually as the world settled into a new order, the Shamak'la were no longer needed, and the war mages died out with the disappearance of the Phoenix Lords." Death touched his hand, tracing the small rune there. "However, the Guardians knew that one day they would be needed again. But the cynicism inherent in human nature and the irrational fear of something more powerful than your ken has prevented the reemergence of the Shamak'la. They would be feared and shunned, equated with the forces of evil. So Fate decreed that the new Phoenix Lord would be human, but marked and endowed with the necessary powers when the time came." Inhuman silver eyes met startled emerald ones. "The Shamak'la created the phoenix to be their familiar and to pass down their knowledge to those worthy of it. When you were born, the phoenix sensed that you had come, and joined with you, sharing its soul and powers. You have had them all your life, but you could not use them until you were trained, and then the marking became visible. This is what really saved you that Halloween night."  
  
Harry sat there, absorbing it all a bit dazedly, then a suspicious question popped into his head. "Why me? What makes me so different from the rest of humanity that I got stuck with this job?" Death held his gaze so that he could sense the sincerity of her words. "How is it that you are a tri-heir if your mother was Muggleborn? She actually is of Ravenclaw descent, but somewhere back in the lineage a Squib was born. They still carried the bloodline, and it was passed down, gaining impetus until your mother was born magical. It was the restoration of this bloodline, combined with that of the other two Light founders, which signaled the phoenix to rise again. But the bloodline is nothing unless the soul behind it is worthy. So you have the strength of your ancestors, but your own will."  
  
"But what does the prophecy have to do with all of this?" Death sighed. "I am not privy to that information. Fate and Time do not tell all the Guardians what they have planned. You will have to discover that on your own." Death stood and helped Harry to his feet. "You have a destiny before you, young phoenix. You will face Voldemort again, and the battle will be costly. This is a war between the forces of good and evil, and the majority of the burden falls to you. But stay true to your heart, and the Light will prevail. Remember this: Power is a useful tool, but a deadly master. I give you my blessings as you go. Lo g'kucod." Still holding tight to his hand, Death leaned in and kissed Harry's forehead, her lips freezing but instilling him with a sense of warmth.  
  
The next instant the pressure of her hand on his disappeared as he felt himself fly upwards and slam back to full consciousness in his physical body again. Harry slid a bit shakily out of bed, his mind swimming with new information. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the house, he crept silently downstairs and slipped past the alarms and barriers that protected the Minister to the gardens outside. Fighting his way to the stream at the edge of the property, he flopped down at the base of an oak tree, gazing at the moon and exhaling deeply. A long time passed as he simply breathed, each exhalation taking away some of his anxiety until he could think clearly again.  
  
*Destiny, destiny, no escaping not for me,* Harry quoted to himself wryly, the last panic fading on a stray moonbeam. He had always know that he was different, unique, somehow set apart from others around him. Growing up he thought it was as his relatives had said; he was a freak and unworthy of anything resembling a normal life. After he learned that he was a wizard, he chalked it up to his fame. He hated that feeling, and having someone dictate exactly what he really was unnerved him. Or perhaps it was the fact that someone had actually given him a straight answer.  
  
Harry lay there in the garden, calmed by the serenity of the night even as he wrenched his mind away from this new information and began plotting. He could feel the Dark powers stirring restlessly, hungry for blood and power. He knew that Voldemort was getting closer to discovering the original resting place of the talisman. The reaction when he found it was already gone should be very interesting. He chuckled a bit as he felt the dagger in its sheath against the small of his back. He shifted onto his side and pulled it out, careful not to touch the actual knife. It was strange, he admitted to himself as he examined the talisman almost lovingly. Ever since he recovered it, he had never let it out of his sight, and lately it seemed permanently attached to his body.  
  
Nobody knew about this, not even Eva. In truth, Harry would not even admit to himself just how much the talisman had become attached to him, not only physically but spiritually. Its presence grew on him; always just under his conscious thought was the desire to touch it again, the experience again the phenomenon of its magic. He had resisted so far, but failed to really recognize the danger inherent in it. Gradually he pulled his thoughts away from his dagger and replaced it at his back, refocusing on the task at hand. How was Voldemort going to use the new Death Eaters and demons? The strategic part of his mind kicked in, running scenarios like a computer program until he drifted back off to sleep gently. The moonlight lit up the garden and caressed over the tattoos of the Phoenix Lord.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ron woke to the annoying buzzing of his alarm clock and the accompanying twittering of Pig in his cage. Cursing the stupid owl under his breath, he grabbed the clock and threw it in the general direction of the owl, not even opening his eyes. The clock hit the cage and knocked it over into the wall before it tottered off the desk onto the floor. The buzzing was silenced, but the crash from the cage and Pig's screeching more than made up for it in volume. Ron tried to block out the noise with his pillow and drift back off to sleep, but soon someone was pounding on his door, yelling at him to shut the stupid bird up.  
  
Groaning, the redhead pulled himself from between the soft and warm sheets to stagger over to the cage and put it back on his desk, stuffing an owl treat to a Pig. He was about to slither back into bed, but the smell of frying bacon reached his nostrils and suddenly he was wide awake and staving. Briefly glad that Hermione had convinced him to finish all his packing last night, he tugged on a pair of jeans and a navy shirt before heading downstairs.  
  
Upon entering the kitchen, he smiled to see his mother cooking up a storm. Some things never change. "Morning Mum." She turned in the middle of buttering toast and greeted him warmly. "Good morning Ron. Go wake up the others, breakfast isn't quite ready yet." Sighing as his stomach rumbled loudly in protest, he mounted the stairs to play human alarm clock. He knocked on Ginny's door first and cracked it open without looking in, calling "Hey Gin, get up!" He heard some mumbling and then something hard hit the door with a bang. Okay, she was awake. Chuckling, he stepped across the hall to Hermione's room, where he knocked briefly and cracked it open. "You awake?" When silence answered him, he dared to peek into the darkened room.  
  
Hermione lay curled up on her side facing the door, sound asleep with a slight smile gracing her lips. The covers tangled around her legs and her hair spread in a curly mess over the pillows. Ron's breath caught in his throat. She was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Silently he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at her, admiring the way her eyelashes lay like fans on her cheeks. Slowly, not really aware of what her was doing, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. Hermione's eyes fluttered open and after a moment she was returning the kiss. Ron broke away and met her surprised look with one of his own, then hers melted into a mischievous smile.  
  
"That was much better than any alarm clock I've ever met." Shocked at his own daring and flushing slightly, he stammered, "Morning . . . uh, b- breakfast's ready," then almost bolted for the door. He heard her laugh as the door closed behind him, and he leaned against it with a goofy smile on his face, brushing his lips with his fingers. Amazing how after nearly a year of being a couple, that one kiss could affect him so much.  
  
Shaking himself out of a pleasant reverie, Ron headed for Harry's bedroom and knocked. "Hey Harry, you dressed yet?" Expecting Harry to be up and doing some sort of workout, he was suspicious when no one answered. He opened the door and walked in to find the bedroom deserted. Ron's blue eyes quickly scanned the unmade bed, pillows scattered on the floor, the trunk opened with books and clothes untidily stacked around it, and various weapons spread out over the desk in a heap with Harry's wand on top. The staff was leaning against the far wall next to the open window.  
  
Harry never went anywhere without being armed anymore, so Ron was immediately worried. This was not good. He raced downstairs and checked the barriers, which indicated that nobody had left the house yet that morning. Ron forced himself to calm down and think. ~Okay, he's just in another part of the house. Probably in the loo.~ He conveniently ignored that fact that he had once caught Harry heading for the shower with at least two knives and his wand with him.  
  
Sighing and shaking his head, he considered just going into the kitchen and grabbing some of that bacon that was making his mouth water. But that little protective instinct of his nagged him to find Harry first, and he grimaced. That annoying voice had popped up back in first year, when Dumbledore had carried Harry's limp body out of the third floor corridor, and had only gotten stronger over the years, even though he knew perfectly well that his friend could take care of himself. Acquiescing to it, Ron climbed the stairs again. The first bathroom was empty, as was the next. He knocked on the third door, and Hermione yelled back that it was currently occupied. Even Harry would not risk Fred and George's bathroom, not with all the new prank toiletries they had developed.  
  
That left tow that Harry could possibly use. One was Ron's, which continued the theme of his old room in that the accessories were all bright orange, even down to the taps and towels. That was currently empty. Ron knocked on the door of the last one, and while he did not receive an answer, he did hear the shower running. He hesitated a moment, then pushed the door open. He spotted a dressing gown hanging on the rack, but did not recognize it. As he had seen all his family's clothes at one time or another, he was pretty confident that Harry was in there. Sighing yet again and deciding to repay him a bit for making him worry, Ron crept up silently to the shower and put his hand up to yank the curtain aside.  
  
Just then he heard a feminine moan and a giggle over the rush of water. Ron froze. ~That sounded like Ginny. Oh please God, don't let her be in there with him.~ The was the subtle scent of strawberries and another moan and giggles, then "Oh yes, that feels good." Ron cleared his throat, his face bright red as he called out, "Ginny? You in there?" There was a short squeak of surprise and then his sister poked her head out around the curtain, fiery red hair covered in shampoo bubbles, her face twisted in confusion and slight shock. "Ron! What are you doing? Go use your own bathroom!" He did a remarkable imitation of a Washington apple and stuttered for a moment before he managed, "Is . . . is H-Harry in there . . . with you?" He winced.  
  
Ginny, already flushed from the hot water, turned an even deeper shade of red normally seen in a smoky sunset. She gaped for a moment, then burst out laughing so hard she almost fell. "No! What would make you think that?" "Well . . ." Ron looked down at his shoes, trying to avoid looking at her. "You need proof? Here," she continued to hide behind the curtain as she tugged it open from the other side to reveal that she was indeed alone. Ron nodded and swallowed. "You . . .you haven't seen him today?" "No, I just got up. Why?" He muttered, "Can't find him. I'll see you at breakfast," and bolted out the door, slamming it shut to cut off the giggles.  
  
Ron ran back downstairs and threw himself into a chair at the kitchen table where a steaming plate of piled food was waiting for him. He promptly began to wolf down his breakfast, trying to ignore the weird start to the day. Hopefully the rest of the year would not turn out the same way. As he was starting on second helpings, Hermione joined him at the table, smiling brightly at him and initiating a game of footsie under the table as she ate. Ginny appeared soon after, smirking at her brother as his ears flamed red with remembered embarrassment. Molly looked around the kitchen and frowned. "Where's Harry? Don't tell me he's still having a lie in, because I know he still hasn't packed his trunk." Ron rolled his eyes.  
  
"Honestly Mum, Harry can take care of himself. He's been living on his own for while after all. Don't worry, he's up." Molly fussed over the plates for a moment. "I know. But still, I consider him to be one of my own, and I can't help mothering him sometimes." Ginny snorted into her eggs, and her mother scowled. "Ginny!" "Sorry Mum," she muttered, her face reddening with suppressed laughter. After a couple more minutes, Molly inquired again, "Where is that boy? Ron?" The teen swallowed and refused to meet his mum's eyes. "I don't know."  
  
"What do you mean you don't know? Is he in the house?" Ron shook his head. "I searched. And no one's gone past the barriers this morning." Molly huffed and took a deep breath, and recognizing the danger signs Ron and Ginny both stuffed their fingers in their ears. She thundered, "HARRY POTTER! IN THE KITCHEN, NOW!" Even with plugged ears the noise was still deafening, and Hermione was rubbing her ears in pain. "Well, if he was asleep, he isn't now," Ginny commented wryly. But when the boy in question he failed to appear within five minutes, Molly began to be even more concerned. "Did he have to leave for an attack?" she asked worriedly, and Ron had to shake his head again.  
  
"No, all his clothes and weapons are still up in his room, even his wand." Ron frowned. "He never goes anywhere without that anymore. He even takes it to the shower with him." Now Hermione snorted into her food, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Ginny sniggered as she caught the hidden reference, and after a few seconds Ron realized was he had said. Molly frowned, but the corners of her mouth twitched. Then she sighed. "So where is he?"  
  
At the moment Fred and George came pounding downstairs. "Morning Mum," they chorused cheerfully. "We were going to have a lie in . . ." "But your dulcet voice trumpeting from downstairs compelled us to . . ." "Join our dear younger brother and sister before they depart once more for the hallowed halls of Hogwarts!" Hermione giggled and turned to Ron, "Well, her yells summoned someone, just not the right one." Fred plopped down in a seat and looked seriously at his mother. "So where is Harry, that you so sweetly bid for his presence?" Molly bit her lip. "No one seems to know. He's disappeared again."  
  
Fred and George shrugged and dug into their breakfasts. "C'mon Mum, Harry can take care of himself." "Maybe, but he doesn't even have his wand with him. He never goes anywhere without it." "Yeah, and a few knives, vials of poisons, and a whole bunch of other stuff he doesn't let us see," George piped up with a grin. "Stop worrying." Molly opened her mouth to object, but the slam of the front door and pounding feet was heard from the front room.  
  
Harry dashed through, hair mussed and wearing only boxers and a tee shirt. "Morning all," he called as he ran up the stairs to his room and slammed the door. Ron turned to his mum, "See?" he said pointedly, and was rewarded with a blush and a scowl. In less than two minutes Harry was back downstairs fully dressed and armed again. He accepted a plate of food from Molly with a smile and nearly inhaled it, only to find another plate set down before him instantly. "So Harry," Ron said casually, "Where were you this morning?"  
  
Harry wiped his mouth before responding, "Outside. Had a dream, needed to think, and fell asleep out by the stream." "Why didn't you even take your wand?" Harry looked up a bit sheepishly and ventured, "Um . . . oops?" 


	19. Back to School Fun

A/N: Hey, guess what? I'm not dead, and I UPDATED!! Yeah, I know it's been a while, but I finished my first semester at college with near straight A's, so I have an excuse. And the fact that I write other things when I get stuck on this one, so go check out whatever else I post and review that too. Writer's block is evil! So's the fact that I don't have my laptop, so trying to update on my mom's computer is a pain in many unmentionable places. I have to fight my sister, mom, and dad for time on it. *sighs deeply* I can't wait to go back to college. Hey, random thought. I was rereading PoA and thought of different types of Animagi. Suddenly I had this mental image of a penguin waddling down the slimy stone corridors of Azkaban, chased by the dementors in their black cloaks. *waddle waddle waddle* *giggles maniacally* Yes, I am certifiably insane. I even have a license. *winks*  
  
Disclaimer: HP and Co. remains the property of JKR, not me, so don't sue me. The parvellah belongs to Deborah Chester in her Alien Chronicles. I just though it was a cool idea and had to use it. I like esoteric weapons. Especially sharp ones with capability for mass destruction. *grins cheekily as she eyes her claymore in the corner*  
  
Chapter 19  
  
Luckily enough, Ron's interesting start held no premonitions for the remainder of the morning, and for once things managed to go smoothly. This may have been partially due to the fact that there were only four of them this year, and the twins did not take it upon themselves to come along. Those two alone caused enough havoc. The Hogwarts-bound teens made it to King's Cross station with plenty of time to spare and passed smoothly through the wall to Platform 9 and ¾ without leaving anyone behind this time. In no time at all they had their trunks loaded and a compartment claimed, so they got back off the train to locate their other classmates.  
  
Harry was pulled aside by Mrs. Weasley, who gave him an extra hug and started to lecture him. "I know that I don't need to tell you, but please, be careful." He nodded, "I will, I promise." She met his eyes, trying to communicate the depth of her request. "Please watch over my babies. I know Ginny and especially Ron would hate to hear me say that, but the way you and they tend to attract trouble . . ." she sniffed. "I have a feeling that something bad is going to happen, and they will be in the thick of it. I couldn't bear it if something happened to them." Harry leaned over and hugged her tightly. "Don't worry Mrs. Weasley. Your family is like my own, and I won't let anything happen to them." She smiled through suspiciously bright eyes, and then pushed him towards the train. "Go on then, and have fun." He smiled back and wandered off.  
  
Ginny found some of her year mates and was soon chatting about their summer experiences. Hermione was cornered by Parvati and Lavender, who were eager to discuss their summer exploits with their boyfriends (nothing too racy!) with someone new, and simply could not wait until the privacy of their dorms. Harry and Ron were too busy laughing to talk coherently. Apparently Seamus, Dean and Neville were all listening in to the teen girl babble and two of the three of them turned such a shade of red that even a highly embarrassed Weasley would never be able to match. This amused Ron to no end, who in turned set Harry off with his snickers.  
  
Soon enough the whistle blew and they were all loaded onto the train by the time it started to pull out of the station. They were off to the next year at Hogwarts. Ron pulled out a pack of cards, grinning, "Anybody fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" They started to play guys versus girls, but soon it disintegrated to just Harry and Ginny playing, as the couple quickly became distracted by each other. Harry met Ginny's eye and rolled his own, pretending to gag as Ron and Hermione started snogging obliviously. She giggled back with her eyes shining with mirth, trying to cover her mouth with a shaking hand to keep from bursting into outright laughter.  
  
Unfortunately, their happy mood was quickly disrupted a bit later when Harry's arm began to sting fiercely. He winced and cursed under his breath as he pulled out his map, attracting the attention of the others in the compartment, even the distracted ones. His eyes widened and he swore out loud, startling his friends as he whipped out some of his packed weapons and staff. He explained as he tugged on the trenchrobe, "Ambush farther up the tracks, lots of demons involved. Looks like they're going to attack the train. Stay here. If something goes wrong, protect the others on the train, and be careful." With that he Apparated away, leaving his friends behind to worry yet again.  
  
Harry reappeared as Wraith 15 miles away, quickly taking stock of the situation from under cover of nearby trees and undergrowth. Wizards were everywhere, setting spells on the tracks to make it explode once the train crossed that particular section. It would derail the cars and probably destroy at least two carriages. Lots of students would be killed or injured it that happened. Wraith gritted his teeth. He would deal with the Death Eaters first; it had to be a swift strike so they were finished before the demons jumped into the fray. And to top it off, he did not have much time with the train still coming. He calculated that he had roughly twenty minutes before it was here. The whole situation was starting to resemble a ridiculous melodrama he had once seen; all that was lacking was a woman tied to the tracks. He stifled a nervous snicker. Time for the cowboy in the white hat to make his appearance.  
  
Wraith pulled out one of the Weasley twins' new inventions; a Spell Sphere. It was a little translucent ball that was capable of holding a spell to be released either on impact or a timer, and acted basically as a Muggle grenade. He set a Stunning curse on one and a Finite Incantatum to nullify the track trap. Taking a deep breath, he tossed the nullifying one first then the stunner. With two bright flashes of light the spheres detonated, the second immediately flattening about three-quarters of the Death Eaters and leaving the rest dazed. He sent a Disarming and Binding spell on them, finishing that threat, but by that time the demons were sprinting toward him, snarling ferally. Adrenaline pumping, he smirked back at them as he drew his sword with one hand and a parvellah with the other. An ancient weapon, half axe and half hammer, it could not be wielded by an unskilled user without serious damage to self. In the hands of a true warrior, however, it was lethal.  
  
The first wave hit him and soon Wraith was ensnarled in a furious battle, surrounded by a mass of stinking dark creatures and spraying blood. He blocked a stabbing blade with the hammer side and slashed his sword though the creature's belly, then spun with the parvellah to fling five demons into their fellows behind them, chests smashed to a bloody pulp. He fought harder, pushing the whole conglomeration farther from the tracks and into the surrounding forest. In the distance the train whistle sounded, momentarily distracting Wraith with the knowledge of limited time. That lapse of concentration cost him dearly, as a demon managed to land a kick in his chest that sent him reeling to the ground and followed it through with a slashing sword toward his head. Gasping for breath, he rolled out of the way just in time and persisted in parrying more murderous blows as he got back to his feet. He ducked a sweeping blow and sprang back, then executed a levitating back flip to alight on an overhanging branch of a tree. He took a brief moment to sheath his weapons to avoid gutting himself on them.  
  
Wraith scrambled up the tree and leapt over to the next one, partially hidden in the leaves yet the demons had no trouble tracking him. They couldn't climb the trees as easily as he could, but they followed him below, flinging spears at him. Wraith took a brief respite to load a Spell Sphere with an Elemental Fire curse and lobbed it down at the snarling hoards, then bolted from tree to tree to put as much distance as possible between him and the explosion. When it detonated, the inferno immediately fried over two dozen creatures into ash, set fire to more in the immediate vicinity and scorched those unlucky enough to be farther away. The shockwave of hot air blew the leaves off the trees and tossed the demons squealing into the hard trunks with a symphony of snapping bones.  
  
Wraith was nearly thrown from his perch, just managing to anchor himself to the shaking trunk and turn away from the blast. Once the tremors died, he jumped down and started running back to the tracks, avoiding the flaming trees and underbrush and finishing off any demons he came across. He winced at the smell of charred flesh and burning wood, hearing the wails of the dying almost covering the whistle of the train coming closer. He needed to make sure the tracks were safe. The Death Eaters were all still out of it, bound and far away from the tracks. The demons were all either destroyed or had fled, and the disgusting corpses littered the ground. The tracks were for the most part undamaged and Wraith made sure that all the curses had been removed. He began removing masks to identify the Death Eaters involved, and recorded their names to send to the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix. He smiled grimly as he found Wormtail hiding in the group. So the little rat was back in action. Rather than send him to the prison with the others, Wraith transformed him into a gift for Sirius and pocketed him with a chuckle. With a wave of his hand the crumpled bodies shimmered and disappeared, on their way to a new home. He dashed off a quick letter to Dumbledore and the Order and with a snap it was delivered to the headmaster's desk with the list of names.  
  
Wraith was so preoccupied, he did not feel the creeping coldness until the faint screaming started in his head. He whipped back around, staff at ready, to find a dozen dementors closing in on him quickly. He shook his head a bit to try and rid himself of the screaming and concentrated for a moment, then yelled out, "Expecto Patronum!" From the top of his staff the three golden figures of Moony, Padfoot and Prongs erupted and rushed the foul cloaked figures. The dementors split up into four groups of three, two groups managing to avoid the golden onslaught and continue straight for him even as their companions burst into dark flame. He dashed backwards to evade their grasping hands and nearly tripped over the carcass of a slain demon. The familiar clammy chill was invading his chest, freezing his heart and making it hard to even breathe. He took a moment to cast the personal Patronus charm on himself, just as he did at Azkaban, which relieved most of the effects but he still felt unnaturally chilled.  
  
The dementors were still advancing, so he fled again to the safety of the trees and out of their reach temporarily. The charred bark was crumbling under his hands and making them black with soot. In his scramble to get away, the staff was knocked out of his hand and clattered to the ground at the foot of one soulless cloak. Wraith cursed in vexation; without the staff he could only conjure a normal Patronus, which could drive them away but not destroy them. He pulled his wand and chanted "Expecto Patronum!" The normal silver gleam of Prongs repelled the dementors, but now one of them was holding the staff. He gritted his teeth and snarled silently, knowing a Summoning charm would be useless now. He strained his mind to think of a new strategy, some new way to defeat these vile things. He could not use his sword or the Spell Spheres. They were immune to conventional weapons and spells; in fact all but the Patronus charm.  
  
In a flash of inspiration, Wraith drew his sword again and turned his wand on it, muttering the Patronus charm again. The steel blade flashed silver with the contained spell, and he leapt down to the ground in front of the dementor with the staff. He slashed through the black cloak with the gleaming blade, feeling no physical resistance but the dementor dropped the staff, crumpled into a ball of dark flame and imploded. He grinned slightly with relief. It worked! He made quick work of the rest of them, shielding his face from the eruptions of flame. Finally he gathered up his staff again and ran back to the tracks again, sheathing his sword again as he went. The train was just pulling up to the curve, chugging away happily. Wraith stood still at the edge of the forest and kept a close eye out as carriage after carriage rolled by. He could see the students inside chatting away cheerfully, obliviously. At one point he saw a flash of red hair, grinned and waved at Ron at he caught his friend staring out the window at him wide eyed. The rest of the train passed by peacefully, and was soon traveling around the tracks in the distance.  
  
Wraith was about to head back to the train when he looked around, suddenly suspicious. Why would Voldemort risk attacking the Hogwarts Express when his own student Death Eaters were on it? The demons only went on sanctioned attacks, and the Slytherins had to be on the train to avoid suspicion. And the dementors, only coming in after the attack was finished? So it had to be . . . He paled suddenly. What if the Slytherins were checking compartments and they found him gone? Voldemort was trying to confirm his identity. He hurriedly put out the remaining fires and Apparated back, quickly changing back to Harry and hiding his weapons and trenchrobe in his trunk again.  
  
Just in time, for even as his friends opened their mouths to question him, the compartment door slid open to reveal Draco Malfoy with his ever-present bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle. "Well well, if it isn't the Mudblood, two Weasels and our favorite Scarhead," he smirked. "Nice ponytail Potter. Forget which lavatory to go into? Or do you swing that way?" Harry countered smoothly, "Why? You interested? Wouldn't surprise me; your boyfriends don't look like much fun." The Gryffindors snickered as Malfoy flushed pink. "Just you wait Potter," he hissed maliciously, "The Dark Lord is coming for you, and this time your parents won't be there to die for you."  
  
Harry stood slowly, towering menacingly over the shorter boy, and glared down at him. He spoke quietly yet sinisterly, "Unlike some, I can fight my own battles. Next time you kiss your master's arse, you can tell him I'll be waiting for him whenever he has the balls to face me on his own. Now get out." Malfoy stared up at him for a moment wide-eyed with alarm, then turned and fairly fled down the corridor, his two companions following a moment after. Harry shut the door and locked it manually before putting on several Locking charms and Silencing spells, then settled back in his seat with a sigh and a grimace. "That was close," he commented with his eyes shut. Ron glanced over at the two girls, who shrugged. "Alright, what happened?" Harry gave them a short account of the ambush and his feeling that it was a trick to reveal his identity. Ginny leaned in close and asked, "But are you okay?" He nodded slightly, "I'll be fine." He opened his eyes and started to reach for his trunk again, but stopped short with a hiss of pain. "What is it?" Hermione came over to him, concerned.  
  
"Broken ribs, I think. I've got potions in my trunk to fix it. Could you get them out?" Hermione started rifling through his trunk while Ginny helped coax his shirt off. Harry's chest and abdomen was covered with some nasty looking bruises and a bright red welt where the broken ribs were pressing against the skin. She grimaced in sympathetic pain, but as she watched some of the bruises began to fade. "How . . ." she stared in fascination, and Harry answered with his eyes closed and his face calm. "I have some skill at self-healing, but it's mainly good for cuts and bruises, small injuries, not broken bones. They'll be gone in a couple minutes." Ron was also watching, but then he grinned crookedly at Harry. "That Wraith get- up still surprises me every time. It was kind of strange to see you standing out there." Harry chuckled quietly. "It's kind of strange for me. Whenever I do that, it's like I have a whole different personality." Hermione handed him a flask of potion, and he drank it silently, sighing as the pain faded and the ribs started to mend. In a minute he was able to put his shirt back on without difficulty, then sat back and dozed while Ron conversed quietly with Hermione and Ginny about the coming school year and their new roles in the war.  
  
Harry jolted awake as the train pulled in at Hogsmeade, rubbing his eyes wearily as they disembarked and with his friends took a carriage up to the castle. He leaned out the window and gazed up at the castle, the towers gleaming in the moonlight, smiling happily. No matter how good his house was, Hogwarts was his home. He spotted a flash of red circling the North Tower and whistled, drawing Eredfire's attention and soon the phoenix swept into the carriage to alight on Harry's shoulder. I have a message from the headmaster. What did you do now? He chuckled as Harry shook his head with amusement. *Nothing much. Just beat up on some demons, dementors and Death Eaters when I was supposed to be on the train.* Eredfire chirped with mixed amusement and disapproval even as he extended his leg with the message tied to it. You take many risks, Master Harry.  
  
Harry untied the message from his familiar's leg and unrolled it quickly to scan the contents. "Dumbledore's called a meeting after the feast. Looks like he got my note, and he wants to check on your progress." The teens looked slightly intimidated at being inspected by the venerable old wizard but nodded bravely. Soon the carriages pulled up to Hogwarts and they entered the main hall with the rest of the school to head for the Great Hall. Eredfire took flight again to go roost in Gryffindor Tower. Once all the students had seated themselves at the proper house tables, Professor McGonagall brought in the new first years for the Sorting. Harry watched as the scared and nervous first years tried on the Sorting Hat and clapped along with the rest of them, but his mind was a million miles away and not paying the slightest bit of attention. He only snapped back to current awareness when Dumbledore stood up from his seat at the High Table.  
  
"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we settle down for the excellent feast, I am afraid that I must give a few announcements. First, Hogsmeade visits will not take place this year again, and for that I am sorry. But the danger is still too great to risk it. Perhaps after Christmas the danger might be lessened enough to allow trips, but for now they will not take place." He paused to allow the chorus of groans, then continued, "Second, I am pleased to announce that Quidditch will continue under supervision." Now cheers answered him, and the headmaster grinned slightly. "Third, in these perilous times it is imperative that we stand united as a whole force against the ravages of the Darkness. Therefore, any harassment or threats against another student will be taken very seriously indeed and punished." He glanced significantly over at the Slytherin table. "Also, the curfew is still in effect, so everybody must be in their Common Rooms by 8 pm sharp. Any after-hours wandering will be punished." Here he sent a look towards the Gryffindor table and Harry had to stifle a grin. Fine. They could punish him, but first they would have to catch him.  
  
"On a more pleasant note, for the first time in a long time all of our professors have returned for yet another year, so I have nobody new to introduce to you." There was a general round of applause, and some scattered laughter from the older students. "The Dueling Club will now be open to third years as well. Now that you have all been informed, tuck in!" The traditional lavish Welcoming Feast appeared on all the tables, and Harry and Ron eagerly dug in. Ron, of course, always ate like he was starving from a week in the harshest wilderness, and Harry had worked up quite an appetite during the attack earlier. Wielding a parvellah took a lot of strength to use, and even more to control.  
  
As the feast wound down, Harry caught Dumbledore's eye who nodded with a slight smile. The headmaster dismissed the students and they headed off to their separate Common Rooms led by the prefects. Harry, however, lingered behind with Ginny as Ron and Hermione escorted the new first years up, then they skirted the crowds and headed for the headmaster's office. Right outside the other two sixth years caught up with them, and after Harry gave the password (Chocolate Raspberry Snorts) they ascended the staircase to the office, then crossed to the Phoenix Chamber. Not the entire Order was present, as they had duties to attend to. Besides the Hogwarts professors only Sirius and Moody were also present and currently engaged in an argument with Remus, but when the teens entered the topic was abandoned.  
  
Dumbledore gestured for everyone to take seats around the marble table, then turned to Harry. "Your letter indicated that there was a thwarted attack on the train today." The teen war mage nodded, so the headmaster continued, "You gave us the names of 16 captured Death Eaters. Care to give us more details?" Harry ran a hand over his face and sighed tiredly. "They set up an ambush on the tracks at about the halfway point, demons included, which alerted me. I stunned the Death Eaters and fried or filleted most of the demons before the remnant fled. Then the dementors showed up, and I learned a new trick to destroy them. The tracks had been cursed to explode once the engine passed a certain point, which would have taken out the front two carriages at least. Oh, and somebody can tell Fred and George that their Spell Spheres work perfectly."  
  
Sirius grinned at that, but Moody shook his head. "This attack doesn't make a whit of sense. His own Death Eaters were on that train. While he may consider them expendable in the long run, right now the attrition rate is too high to sacrifice his youngest and most promising." Harry nodded. "Exactly. It doesn't make sense." He paused, "Unless it was never meant to succeed." Several of the professors sat up straighter in astonishment. "What?!" Dumbledore nodded slowly in realization as Harry explained, "I've talked to other students on the train. While the ambush was being set up, the new Death Eater students were searching the compartments. I barely got back before Draco Malfoy came to our compartment." He let the implications sink in a bit as he sat back in his chair and sighed wearily. "Voldemort suspects me. This attack was a ruse to flush me out. There were more demons today than I've seen at any single attack, so either they would kill me off, or else delay me long enough for his spies to find me missing. Plus the dementors only showed up after the Death Eaters and demons were taken care of. There was too many of them to be a rogue group. That tells me that they were not supposed to be part of the original attack, or else they would have fled once the mission was compromised. They were there to take care of me."  
  
Remus sucked in a quick breath as Sirius swore quietly. Snape broke in. "What about your clone?" Harry shook his head. "I didn't have time to conjure it, nor the concentration. I had less than 15 minutes to clear a whole section of track of booby-traps, Death Eaters, demons, dementors, and debris before the train came. It was close enough as it was." Snape quirked his lips in either a smile or a smirk; it was kind of hard to tell which. "Why don't you just say you forgot?" Harry just glared back before Dumbledore broke in gently, "But you managed to pull it off admirably, I see." Moody interrupted, "What new trick? You said you learned a new trick to destroy the dementors." Harry rubbed his face with his hands again as he answered, "I set a Patronus charm on my sword. Turns out that affects them more than just a regular Patronus. Lets me cut through like a hot knife through butter." Moody looked intrigued, as did Hermione.  
  
Harry suddenly snapped his fingers. "I almost forgot. Padfoot!" Sirius looked up, a bit startled at the old nickname. "I've got something for you. A souvenir." He dug into the pockets of his robe and pulled out a grayish item, grinning with diabolical glee. "Recognize this?" He dangled a rubber squeaky mouse by the tail, swinging it slightly so that the distinctive silver paw caught the light, and his godfather's mouth dropped open, as did most of the others' in the room. "Padfoot, go long!" He chucked it hard across the room.  
  
Within a heartbeat, Sirius was replaced by a big black bear-like dog which bounded across the room and leapt to catch the toy in his mouth. As he landed he bit down hard and was rewarded with a satisfyingly loud "SQUEAK!!" of protest. If dogs could chuckle evilly, Padfoot would have been even as he chewed ferociously on the rubber mouse, letting out a steady stream of "squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak!!" as he did. Soon the entire Order was roaring with laughter as Wormtail got his comeuppance in an appropriately annoying Marauder-esque fashion.  
  
Remus wiped tears from his eyes and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Circe's beard! I haven't laughed that hard since our graduation prank. Your father would be proud." Harry looked interested. "What did you guys do?" Remus opened his mouth, seemed to think about it for a moment, then shook his head. "Not until after you graduate. As your professor, I don't want you trying to copy it on me." Harry appeared insulted and protested, "Hey! I never copy pranks." Then he added with a smirk, "Unless I can improve on them." The werewolf rolled his eyes, but their banter was cut off by Dumbledore, who had finally managed to control himself again.  
  
"Now that that matter is settled, let us move on to our next business; the training of our newest members. Ron, could you give us a brief synopsis of what the training consisted of?" Ron paled a bit at being put on the spot, but spoke up bravely as he detailed their schedule for the past three weeks. Hermione and Ginny were also asked to give their impressions of the preparations they had gone through. The professors for the most part appeared impressed, and Dumbledore had a little satisfied smile on his face. When they were done, the headmaster said, "While I have full confidence in Harry and his trainer, I believe we would like to test your skills to properly evaluate you all for your roles in this Order." The three teens nodded in agreement, so Arabella spoke up. "Tomorrow night I will test each of you separately at the Dueling Club, and afterwards the other professors will have their shots at you." Maybe it was her choice of words, or the fact that Snape was looking particularly gleeful, but now Ginny, Hermione and Ron were all nervous. Harry kept quiet, knowing they would be fine.  
  
Just then there was a "pop!" like a seal breaking, and abruptly the dog in the corner began gagging. He dropped his new chew toy and started to retch, looking like he had just wolfed down an entire anchovy pizza and was now ready to decorate the living room carpet with it. Snape sneered even as his face twisted with slight horror, but the rest of the Order was understandably concerned. Remus started for his longtime friend, questioning, "Padfoot? You okay?" The Grim-like canine heaved twice more, swallowed hard, panted, then transformed back into a very pale Sirius. He spoke in a rasped whisper, "I swallowed the squeaker."  
  
*************************************************************  
  
After the meeting broke up on that high note, Harry followed Snape down to the dungeons in order to place the new wards around the Potions classroom as well as Snape's office and chambers. He was still inclined to giggle at Sirius' misfortune even as he rubbed a sore elbow. He had cracked it on the edge of the table when he fell out of his chair laughing hysterically. Snape was fighting a grin that threatened to upset his normally sour visage, and occasionally a snort of suppressed snickers worked its way out of his hooked nose. Luckily they managed to sober up as they approached their destination, as noise tended to carry through the stone corridors of the dungeons.  
  
Once they were safely inside the Potions classroom, Harry turned to Snape with a twinkle in his emerald eyes. "Makes you wonder, though, as to which part of Wormtail that squeaker was, so what exactly did Sirius swallow?" Snape fought to keep a straight face, but failed miserably and burst into outright laughter as numerous possibilities ran through his mind, each more ridiculous than the last. Harry turned to the classroom and the task at hand. He had questioned Snape on what types of wards would be most useful and where, and was familiar enough with the classroom to not need any assistance. He was finished fairly quickly, and Snape went to unlock his office. Just as he touched the handle, Harry caught a flicker of magic similar to tripping an alarm, and shouted "Watch out!"  
  
Reflexes honed from years of living on the edge as a Death Eater, spy, and Potions professor saved Snape's life as he jerked back form the door just in time. A curse exploded above his head, creating a fireball that should have enveloped the professor and caused serious burns. As it was, it scorched his face quite a bit and his hair was on fire very briefly before it snuffed out. Harry leapt forward with an Extinguishing charm to take care of the smoldering doorway, then turned to Snape. A brief examine with a critical eye revealed no serious damage, and he silently handed him a bottle of Burn Cream. "At least now we know if that grease in your head acts as an accelerant or a retardant," the teen finally commented, unable to resist. Snape scowled but shot back, "Damn useful when working over open flame, unlike that potential torch on your head." Harry turned back to the door to hide a mischievous smirk.  
  
"The curse itself is simple enough, but it was cast with a charm to hold it until the door was tampered with. That is certainly more complex and takes a special skill with charms. I'm guessing a 7th year. Any ideas?" Snape raked the room with a sharp gaze, looking for more traps as he answered, "Either Pyrnan or Foloth; both initiated, only fair at Potions but excellent with Charms and Transfiguration. See how they transfigured the wood to hold the curse in place, out of sight, then disguised it? Probably both of them working together." He glanced over at Harry with an arched eyebrow. "Find any more little surprises, before I set them off?" The teen shook his head. "Nope, just the normal magical signatures. They probably figured that one was enough of a warning for here tonight." He trailed off, thinking, "Unless . . ." he eyed the Potions Master. "Do you usually come here after the feast, or to your rooms?"  
  
"From the Welcoming Feast, directly to my chambers. I have no need to come here until morning." "So this one was not supposed to be tripped until tomorrow. I'll have to double-check your chambers tonight." Snape nodded in agreement with his logic and finished opening the door to his office. While the professor examined the shelves to ensure that nothing had been stolen, Harry employed his staff to first check for more curse traps and then set up more wards to add to the one Snape had put up himself. Being paranoid had saved their lives often enough to justify expending enough magic that Harry strongly doubted anyone other than Snape of himself could take them down. And Snape only because it was his office.  
  
The Potions Master seemed reluctant to allow Harry into his personal chambers, hesitating before taking off the personal Locking charm from the entrance and stepping through with the teen at his heels. He wisely said nothing, and Harry concentrated on focusing his energy, letting the red light from the ruby topping the staff sweep over the rooms. The front room was a comfortable study, with a large fireplace surrounded by bookcases filled with an amazing collection of literature. An armchair and small sofa were by the fire, while a study desk neatly arranged was set back against the right wall. It was a scholar's hideaway, disrupting the popular image of Severus Snape as a slimy vampire who slept in a coffin in his office, unwilling to be parted from his precious potions and poisons. He suppressed a smirk. No wonder he did not let anyone see it.  
  
Nothing amiss was found, so Harry began setting more barriers around the room that only allowed Snape and those he wished to admit in. "Is the fireplace on the Floo Network?" "Not technically. Officially only the inter- Hogwarts one now. However, I can still Floo out, but not in." The teen set a screen of magic wards and alarms on it, then headed for the bedchambers. Snape looked distinctly uncomfortable with that. "Is that really necessary?" "Yes, unless you like meeting Death Eaters in your bedroom, and in that case I really don't want to know."  
  
Snape scowled in deep disgust and shook his head in denial, so Harry explained, "For maximum protection, each ward only covers one room. That way I can put strength into each one, instead of stretching it to cover a larger area." The professor simply waved his hand impatiently, telling him to get on with it, so the teen cautiously entered the room. He quickly noted the placement of the bed, wardrobe, desk and most importantly the fireplace. Wards identical to the ones on the main hearth were set up, then Harry spun more magic to encase the room. Snape had come up silently behind him, watching as Harry handled his staff expertly. "I never would have thought I would someday have a student, least of all you, alone in my bedchambers."  
  
Harry threw him an incredulous look over his shoulder. "Don't take that any farther," he warned before turning back to his work. "I have enough mental scarring for a lifetime." Snape grinned a bit. "And how much of that did Eva give you? I must admit, you two seemed pretty cozy together." Harry shot back, "Haven't we already been through this? And besides, if you want to talk about cozy, what about you and Flich, hmm?" He had the pleasure of watching Snape turn a sickly shade of yellow-green, then continued, "No? Then what about the rumors I've been hearing about you, Trelawney, and the Astronomy Tower?"  
  
Now the green was a lovely shade that matched the light of the Avada Kedavra, complementing perfectly the flare Snape was sending in his direction. "You're worse than Black," he gritted out, but Harry turned with a wide-eyed look of innocence. "What? You're the one who started it." He grinned sardonically and stuck out a hand. "Truce? No jokes about our sex lives, or lack thereof?" Snape shook on it. "Truce. Done here yet?" "Yep. I'll place a couple on the bathroom really fast, then I'm done." As he walked out, he answered the unspoken objection, "Don't want any basilisks or peeping ghosts in the plumbing, now do you?"  
  
******************************************************  
  
Harry did not return to Gryffindor Tower until after midnight, thanks to a little run-in with Peeves on the fourth floor as he was heading for the staircase. The poltergeist had found a new toy; namely, Harry's long braid. He seemed to enjoy flipping it around to hit Harry's face, the portraits, suits of armor, etc. After many frustrating attempts, the war mage finally managed to put a Spirit Binding spell on him to hold him in place, then performed a particularly tricky bit of Transfiguration. He supposed he was lucky it was a poltergeist and not a real ghost, with a modicum of physical form to alter, but with the spirit resistance to magical change it was fairly difficult. Still, Harry managed it, went back to his dormitory and fell asleep with a smile on his face, knowing that now the Bloody Baron was not the only one Peeves was scared of.  
  
Later that night, Mrs. Norris was pleased to discover a brand new litter box on the fourth floor, complete with fresh kitty litter and an orange bow tie.  
  
******************************************************  
  
He dreamed he was flying on the back of an eagle owl, the wind blowing his hair back. It was uncannily like the dream back in fourth year, even to the destination. The familiar shade of the Riddle House rose out of the nighttime gloom, and the owl swooped in lower, aiming for one dimly lit window on the second story. It fluttered in, and Harry left its back and moved closer to the fireplace, following a black cloaked man carrying the letter. A sudden sharp pain lanced through his forehead, and Harry hissed as Voldemort came into view, as ugly and foul as ever, sitting in an old armchair as if it was a throne.  
  
"Master, a letter's just arrived for you." The Dark Lord snatched the parchment from the man and perused it quickly. "So, Severus is indeed alive and back teaching his precious Potions." Briefly the red eyes flittered over the man before him. "Makes one wonder how he escaped. Truly miraculous." A minute of silence, then "What about the ambush? I have yet to hear word, except for that Wraith obviously fell for it and the train is still intact." The man before him trembled, wanting to be anywhere but facing his master with bad news of this magnitude, but spoke anyway rather than scream while under the Cruciatus.  
  
"I sent our scouts earlier, and they have just returned with news." He swallowed hard and continued, "All sixteen of our comrades appear to have been captured alive, or at least no trace of them was found at the site. Scores of demons were destroyed, some burnt to ashes. Part of the surrounding forest had been incinerated in an explosion." He took a deep breath, but Voldemort interrupted. "What of the dementors? They had orders, and if Wraith is who I believe he is, he would not have been able to withstand an attack by a dozen dementors."  
  
The Death Eater shifted uncomfortably. "They . . . uh, the dementors . . . were annihilated too, my lord." Voldemort froze, his red eyes gleaming in disbelief and rage. "Annihilated?" he breathed, "And the younger Malfoy reports no one missing from the train the entire journey?" He rose slowly from his stately chair, shaking with suppressed fury and radiating an almost palpable aura of hate. "Am I just supposed to tolerate the actions of this damnable Wraith? When he alone in these past months has cost me more in time and servants than all other forces combined in the last thirty years? NO!!!" he roared out, and he turned his wand on the cowering Death Eater. "Crucio!"  
  
Harry woke with a start, gasping for air as the man's agonized screams echoed away in his ears and the pain in his head gradually faded. He gulped in lungfuls of precious oxygen until his heart rate slowed, and gradually he smiled grimly. So, his nemesis was growing more frustrated. Good. An enemy who is enraged thinks less about his actions before doing, and is prone to many more advantageous mistakes. He made a mental note to inform Dumbledore that Malfoy had sent a letter to the Riddle House as he settled back in bed, and was soon fast asleep. 


	20. Didn't Your Mum Ever Tell You Not To Run

A/N: Sorry about these long notes, but hey. I'm very proud of my squeaker. Inspiration from a Christmas party. *grins maliciously* I'm sorry if I didn't make it clear earlier, but I guess some things get lost in the transition between my mind and my keyboard. Good news to all you Harry/Eva shippers: she loves him. Deeply. In that way, i.e. romantically. She told Ginny that she loves him like a sister and a friend, but she was partially lying. Girls, you know what I'm talking about. You like a guy, but he can't find out, so you kid around with him and act like his friend while hiding your true feelings as not to drive him away. Better friendship than nothing. But she wants more. Much more. Bad news: He doesn't know, and he cannot love her. Harry will remain a bachelor, as Fate has determined that romantic love is a weakness that he can't afford. So sorry for all you who love the romance bit. I don't like it. Besides, I write unrequited love and pining so much better (not from personal experience *rolls eyes*).  
  
This chapter is courtesy of my sprained ankle, which has kept me confined to my desk much more as it is very painful to get around. If you want the full story, my friend clifjumpr13 has written a nice poem about it, since the idiot wanted to make fun of me. Check it out at http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1173504. He's also doing a Death Eater's journal.  
  
If you want to be notified by email when I update, leave it in your review or email me at lpsychosunshine@netscape.net. In the meantime, check out my other stuff, including a brand new poem and short fic.  
  
Thanks to Betsy of the trees for the use of a new and very funny word. I would explain the story behind it, but you really had to be there. And more thanks to clifjumpr13 for helpful research into Herbology when I got stuck.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. HP and Co. belong to JKR, who has finally announced the release date of The Order of the Phoenix on June 21st 2003, thus rendering this fic obsolete. (But I don't care, as she is a much better author than I am. I've already preordered the book!! *shakes her head as she realizes how utterly pathetic she really is*) Hey, be glad I'm not JKR, or else you'd have to wait much longer than a month for this chapter to come out. The rest is the product of my twisted imagination, and can't be used without my permission. So back off, you wretched blood-sucking lawyers with your infernal lawsuits!  
  
Chapter 20  
  
Ron laughed so hard he snorted scrambled eggs onto the Arithmancy text Hermione was trying to read across from him. Normally she would have snapped at him for ruining part of her precious book, but she was too busy stifling giggles unsuccessfully. Harry sat back with a grin and enjoyed watching them in hysterics. He had just finished telling them about the previous night's activities, skipping certain details about his and Snape's improved relationship of course, but emphasizing the flaming hair. Between that, the litter box and Sirius' squeak toy mishap; it had been quite a . . . interesting night.  
  
The redhead managed to control himself enough after a few minutes to apologize to Hermione for messing up her book. While they were otherwise preoccupied with their little kissy-face make-up routine, Harry glanced up at the High Table. All the professors were there, including Snape who appeared to be his usual self this morning, dark scowl and all, ignoring the chatter of the other professors especially Lupin, who seemed to be regaling McGonagall with a particularly fascinating story. Harry smirked at the Potions Master and tilted his head questioningly. Snape simply arched an aristocratic eyebrow and fractionally shook his head. No other surprises this morning.  
  
Soon enough the new schedules were passed out, and Ron took one look at his and groaned. "Oh great. Potions first thing in the morning with the Slytherins. And Divination right after that. I swear, I think someone's out to make our lives as miserable as possible." Harry, puzzled, checked his schedule again then glanced over Ron's shoulder at his aforementioned schedule. "Um, Ron, you might want to check your days again. This morning we have Herbology and Transfiguration. Potions isn't until tomorrow." Ron glanced over at him for a moment, then scrutinized his parchment again, his ears turning red. "Oops. Um, yeah," he cleared his throat as Hermione tried not to giggle at his mistake.  
  
Ron led the way to the greenhouses, Hermione and Harry trailing behind and smirking a bit. He leaned over to his bushy haired friend and whispered, "Well, now I know what to get him for Christmas. A calendar." She elbowed him playfully and whispered back, "As long as it's not Playwizard or something like that. I'd hate to have to kill you both." As Harry gaped at her, she grinned innocently and sped up a few steps to walk beside Ron, interdigitating their hands.  
  
Harry blinked few times and slowly grinned as he shook his head. Nice to know his friends could still surprise him. They got to Greenhouse six in plenty of time, so they chatted quietly while pulling on their stained overcoats and stuffing dragonhide gloves in their pockets. Soon enough Professor Sprout called the class to order, and the trio joined the assembled Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs around the center table.  
  
"Good morning class. This year we'll begin by studying the rhys plant. Can anybody tell me about them?" Not surprisingly, Hermione has her hand up almost before the question was asked, followed by Neville. Professor Sprout seemed pleased and pointed at Neville. "The rhys plant is native to a small Unplottable Malaysian island, the only place it will grow. It is tended by a group of faeries known as the Plant Rhys Dwfen, who are fiercely protective of their groves. It is difficult to harvest as you must first be granted permission by the faeries, which is only granted if they like you. Unauthorized harvesting has never been successfully done, as the perpetrators disappear, presumably at the faeries' hands. Once harvested and prepared, the plant has the ability to make the user invisible."  
  
"Very good Mr. Longbottom. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, we have a small sampling of the rhys plant here, both harvested and a few immature plants. We are going to try to keep them alive, as it has never successfully grown outside faerie protection. As for the harvested plant, as Neville said it must be prepared specially in order to demonstrate its invisibility properties. However, that preparation is a secret that the faeries entrust to only a precious few. As it is, it is also useful in enhancing invisibility potions and concealing spells."  
  
Sprout picked up a small pouch filled with a gooey paste. "We are lucky enough to procure some prepared rhys, so I am able to give you a demonstration. Do I have any volunteers? Ms. Abbot, if you will?" The blond Hufflepuff made her way a bit nervously to the front. "Hold out your hand dear." The Herbology professor used a small wooden spoon to smear some of the paste on Hannah's right hand, where it glistened for a moment before disappearing, taking the hand with it. Steadily the rest of Hannah's arm vanished, then her whole body. The last thing to go was her feet.  
  
The class murmured in approval, and there was a nervous giggle from the empty air beside the professor. "Very good dear. Now take this cloth and wipe off the paste." A small rag floated in the air for a moment, darting back and forth in a rubbing motion. Thirty seconds later Hannah has reappeared whole and wide-eyed. "Five points of Hufflepuff. You may go back to your place."  
  
She glanced over at the rest of the appreciative class who were now paying strict attention. "You'll form groups of six and devise a plan to keep your plant alive, as well create a schedule for your group to check and track the progress or lack thereof every day. Full marks to each group whose plant is alive and moderately healthy at the end of three weeks. Now choose your groups and come to me for your plants."  
  
There was a general confusion as people milled about, and Harry, Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Hannah Abbot and Ernie MacMillian in a group. Neville brought over the delicate looking plant with shimmering silver- green leaves. They all looked at it for a moment, then looked at each other. "Well," Ron said with a little grin, "What do we do now?" He glanced significantly over at Hermione, who seemed about to start one of her classic lectures, but then snapped her mouth shut and glared back at him, daring him to say anything.  
  
Hannah broke the tension. "Well, it's obviously a magical plant and therefore regular compost and such probably won't work. What do you think the faeries use?" Neville examined the fragile seedling with a critical eye. "I know that the Malaysian island this grows on is volcanic in nature, so the soil would have a particular mix that England does not naturally have. I'll see if Professor Sprout has compost with high potash content."  
  
Harry ran a light finger over one of the leaves, which seemed to glow and shiver slightly at the attention. "I suspect that mooncalf dung might be helpful to add, due to its nature. And this plant seems like it needs contact." He stroked the plant again, and it glowed brighter and shivered again, the leaves making a faint chiming sound. "When we check on it, make sure to give it personal attention."  
  
Ron stared incredulously at him, then shrugged and copied Harry's actions. The plant trembled harder and leaned towards him a bit, almost like a kitten leaning into a comforting caress. His eyebrows nearly merged with his hairline, and he commented, "Hey, it likes me!"  
  
****************************************************  
  
Herbology passed fairly quickly, with each of them scheduled to come in at least once a week to monitor their project. The trio washed up and headed back to the castle, laughing and joking on their way to Transfiguration. Hermione was regaling them with a story from when she went to Muggle school in her youth, and Ron was delighted to hear that she had not been the goody two shoes all the time. They sat together at the front of the room as usual and Hermione was forced to discontinue her story as the bell rang and Professor McGonagall appeared.  
  
"This is your sixth year here at Hogwarts, and while you may not have any major exams this year, your NEWTS are only a year away. I do not expect you to become lax in your studies." Hermione looked mildly insulted that someone would suggest that she would fail to study hard. "Therefore, I am assigning all of you a long-term project to work on, due by the last day before the Christmas holidays. Do not slack off and leave it all for the last minute, as this will be much harder than the projects you have done before."  
  
The stern professor glared around the room, lingering especially on the boys of the group. "Form groups of three people each and brainstorm a topic for your project. Clear your topic with me, and I will give you a list of expectations you must fulfill for full credit." She waved her hand for them to get started, and the quiet was immediately transformed into a flurry of movement and talking.  
  
The trio naturally stuck together and were quickly throwing out possibilities. Whenever Ron or Harry presented an idea, Hermione would immediately start rambling on every single facet of the project and the potential for it. ". . . and with multi-species cross-Transfiguration there's the potential of accidentally getting stuck partway and creating a new species, which could get you into trouble with the Department of . . . umphf!!" Her babbling was cut off suddenly as Ron's hand clamped over her mouth, and he grinned a bit even as she narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Hermione, I love you, but you talk too much. Eeewww!" He whipped his hand away and wiped it on his robes. "What did you do that for?"  
  
"Serves you right," she retorted with a self-satisfied smirk, and Harry looked away to hide his grin at their antics. "Why don't we do something on human-animal-object transfiguration? You know, the process, the dangers, the potential for dueling, the possibilities of long-term maintenance. We could use Wormtail as an example."  
  
Ron's eyes lit up. "And maybe we could determine what part of him was the squeaker that Sirius swallowed! Hope it hurts him," he added with malicious relish, still a bit peeved at the fact that the traitor had once been his pet. Hermione was also excited about it. "That has tons of possibilities. It hasn't been done often, so we get to study the theoretical and experimental aspects. And for the squeaker, we could determine whether or not disassemblement affects the entity."  
  
Ron wrinkled his nose, then grinned. "So basically, how many times can we split the rubber git before he croaks? Wicked!" Hermione glanced over at Harry. "Do you think he'll get the squeaker back?" Harry chuckled darkly. "Not for a couple more days, and then I don't think he'll want it back, no matter what part it was." Ron made a face and joined in his friend's laughter, which only increased at the look on Hermione's face as she realized the implications of that.  
  
**********************************************  
  
McGonagall approved their project with a twinkle in her eyes, and they proceeded to the Great Hall for lunch, where they met up with Ginny. Harry stirred his soup a bit as he commented, "So, you guys ready for your evaluations tonight?" Ginny dropped her spoon and Ron paled a bit. Hermione groaned, "Oh no, I forgot all about that! How could that have happened?! I wrote it down and everything!"  
  
Harry tried to soothe the panicking teens. "Don't worry, you'll all do fine. You didn't spend two weeks with the slave driver from hell for nothing. Besides, right now we need to concentrate. Defense Against the Dark Arts is next." "Not for me," Ginny moaned pathetically. "I've got Potions with the Slytherins next." Ron patted her on the back sympathetically. "Good luck with that. And if that slimy git gets unbearable, just imagine him with his greasy hair on fire." She giggled as she gathered up her books and stuffed them in her bag. "I'll remember that."  
  
The trio followed her out and waved as she headed down to the dungeons while they joined their class in DADA, barely managing to grab seats at the front. Remus emerged from his office, looking tired and worn as usual, but with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes that made him look like a teenage Marauder again. "Good afternoon all. Today, instead of me just talking at you, we have a guest professor here who is going to help out with the lesson."  
  
The office door banged open, and Sirius Black stood there grinning before joining Remus at the front of the class, accompanied by gasps and murmurs. Despite the fact that his name had been cleared 9 months ago, fourteen years of disinformation caused people to be wary of him still. Harry simply grinned back at his godfather and gave him a small salute.  
  
"I see my reputation precedes me yet again. Don't worry, I haven't killed anyone who hasn't deserved it, and I'm not crazy. Or at least, the voices in my head tell me I'm not." There were a few snickers in response to his innocent expression, and then Remus clapped his hands to get their attention, back into professor mode. "Alright. As sixth years, you must know how to defend yourselves, especially with the war as it is. Therefore you must know what you need to defend yourselves against. Today we are going to cover . . . demons."  
  
There was a general gasp of surprise as the choice of curriculum. "As some of you know, Voldemort," he was interrupted by shudders and murmurs of alarm at the name, and both Marauders frowned. Sirius scolded, "Cut that out. Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself, which doesn't help you. Fear is power, and it can paralyze you in a critical moment. Saying his name give you power over him." Remus smiled at the little tirade and continued, "Voldemort has learned how to summon the ancient demon armies, and over this last summer has unleashed them on the world."  
  
He swirled his wand and an image of a demon materialized in front of him, amid shouted exclamations of disgust and alarm. He arched an eyebrow. "I take it few of you have seen one of these before." He turned back to the image. "This is a typical specimen. Note the muscles in the arms and legs. They are incredibly strong and supernaturally fast, nearly inexhaustible with awesome stamina, and unbelievably vicious with an insatiable blood thirst. They are immune to all spells a normal wizard can do, and are physically tough enough to withstand a lot of brute force. They are fairly intelligent, but as far as anyone has determined, that only covers what orders their master gives them to complete an objective. In other words, the ultimate loyal shock troops."  
  
Dean raised his hand. "Can they do magic?" Remus hesitated as he thought, then answered, "We're not entirely sure. The ability to block magic is magical in and of itself, but there is no evidence that they are capable of active magic, such that we know. They prefer to kill by hand and force, which leads some to believe that they cannot do higher magic." He paced around the image as it snarled and brandished a clawed fist. "Mr. Black and I have both run across these creatures in the last few months. They are nothing to be trifled with." He flicked his eyes towards Harry. "I believe you have also encountered them before, Mr. Potter?" The teen shrugged casually. "Once or twice." "Would you like to add anything?"  
  
Harry got up out of his seat and approached the image, studying it critically. "Well, we know that they can do one type of magic. They are able to transport themselves anywhere, even through anti-Apparation wards. From what I've seen, they like to attack en masse with at least a dozen. In a crowd they split up so each can do the most damage, but against a single opponent they resort to swarm techniques meant to overwhelm and slaughter. There are actually two different kinds or species."  
  
He traced a finger over the claws. "See these? They're poisoned with a paralytic which literally freezes every muscle in the body, including the heart. The victim dies of a heart attack, if the blood loss doesn't get him first. The claws are distinctive of the warrior species, which is by far the most prevalent and dangerous. The other is the messenger class which act as a go-between for the ranks and the master. They are dangerous in their own way, but not physically violent. They also create the weapons.  
  
"In general, they do have a few weaknesses. They can't swim; their armored hide is so heavy they sink and drown, although with their greater lung capacity it takes a while. For some reason they are fairly flammable, more so than humans or Snape's hair, which I find rather ironic." There were a few chuckles at that statement. "Like you said earlier, they are immune to magic, but they cannot cast spells of their own. And they are useless for most sneak attacks, as it is impossible to keep them quiet. They like to growl and snarl and whatnot, so you usually hear them before you see them. And they smell terrible, so don't get too close if you don't want to pass out from the stench." Harry glanced up at his professor and godfather. "Anything else?"  
  
Remus shook his head and addressed the rest of the class. "I hope you were taking notes. Most of this cannot be found in books, as very few people have survived a close encounter with a demon, let alone be able to study one and their capabilities." Harry sat back down as his classmates scrambled to get out their quills and parchment. Hermione leaned over to him and whispered urgently, "Harry, exactly how close have you gotten to these . . . things?" The disgust and open concern was obvious in her voice.  
  
He murmured back, "Far closer than anyone else, and too close for my comfort." He saw the horrified look on her face. "Don't worry. It's nothing I can't handle." Their conversation was interrupted as Remus spoke again. "The simplest way, yet by no means easy, to kill these things is by hand to hand combat, preferable with swords. Sirius?"  
  
The ex-convict unsheathed a sword that had been lying on the desk in its scabbard. "This particular one had been enchanted to increase steel strength and sharpness as well as improving the balance and weight. Artificing, or enchanting objects to enhance their natural capabilities, is fairly difficult. You won't learn that until next year in Charms." Ron leaned over and whispered to Harry, "Which means Hermione can do it right now." He earned himself an elbow in the ribs.  
  
Sirius continued his lecture. "Now, some might consider this a bit archaic and useless. But in actuality if a wizard finds himself deprived of his wand or otherwise unable to do magic, the sword is the best third line of defense." He arched an eyebrow. "Who can tell me the first two?" About half the class raised their hands, and Seamus answered, "Your brain and your wand. First do whatever possible to avoid a conflict, but if that fails, use your wand to end it quickly." Remus nodded. "Very good Mr. Finnegan. I'll be sure to let Professor Figg that some do indeed pay attention in her class. Five points. If in a fight you are reduced to using a conventional weapon, you have already lost part of the battle, yet it is still possible to win the war."  
  
He turned to Sirius. "Would you care to give us a demonstration on the proper sword techniques?" Sirius nodded with the Marauder twinkle in his blue eyes. "Sure. But I think it might be more beneficial and instructive to give them a demonstration of dueling instead of simple sword tricks. Harry, you know how to wield a sword. Care to help me out here?" His godson blinked. "Why not you and Professor Lupin?"  
  
Sirius smirked. "He's not as good as you are, and I need competition. Plus someone's got to clean up after us." Harry sighed as he pushed himself away from the table again and walked up to join his godfather. "Fine. But remember, you asked for it." The other students stood along the walls as Remus cleared away the desks with a flick of his wand.  
  
Harry unsheathed his own sword from his back and enlarged it to full size. Sirius blinked. "Do you carry that thing everywhere?" The teen War Mage shrugged carelessly. "Pretty much. On Remus' signal." They faced each other with swords in hand, eyes never breaking contact. Remus stood off to the side, evaluated them both, and said "Go."  
  
The swords clashed together not even a second later, and soon a full- fledged battle was being waged. Sirius was in excellent shape with sharp reflexes and experience with years of fighting the Dark Arts. He had learned to duel with all sorts of blades as a child, and continued improving his skills up until the day he was arrested. But Harry - with battle-hardened muscles, training, razor-sharp reflexes, youth, and nearly superhuman speed - was more than a match for him. As this was a demonstration, however, he held back and allowed Sirius to dictate the speed and ferocity, matching him stroke for stroke.  
  
After a couple minutes of straight dueling, Harry idly wondered if Sirius was adaptable, and if he had learned the art of two blades. He ducked a sweeping blow, spun and kicked out to land a booted foot on Sirius' breastbone, just hard enough to wind him a bit. He staggered back a few paces with surprise on his face, but then his eyes narrowed as he rejoined the duel, a punch of his own accompanying a parry.  
  
Harry snapped his head to the side just in time and heard the fist whistle by his ear, then hooked a foot behind his godfather's knee and shoved him hard. Sirius fell back, but caught himself on his hands and turned it into a roll to land on his feet again. They eyed each other for a moment, then the teen War Mage smirked as he pulled out one of his boot knives, the unpoisoned one, and held it in a backwards grip, blade back against his forearm.  
  
Sirius' eyes widened briefly, then so did his smirk as he too pulled out a boot knife of his own. Harry asked, "So you carry that thing everywhere?" "Pretty much," Sirius retorted with good humor as he attacked, driving Harry back towards the wall. The students there scattered to the sides as they watched wide eyed, many cheering or placing bets as to whom would be the winner. The odds seemed to favor Harry, but only slightly. The ones not busy counting out sickles were mesmerized by the intricate dance between the four blades, the complicated footwork to maximize balance and reach, the determined expressions on the duelists' faces.  
  
Harry dropped to sweep his leg through Sirius' ankles, but he jumped over it and slashed downward with his sword. The teen rolled out of the way and parried with his dagger, then used the flat of this sword to smack his godfather on his rump. The Animagus yelped, and Harry used the distraction to flip back to his feet. The duel continued, with both combatants showing off their considerable competency with the blades. Neither had managed to draw blood, but were sporting a couple of bruises apiece. Sirius feinted with his dagger, and as Harry moved to block it slipped in his sword and attempted to disarm him. Harry caught the move and parried it with his knife, then locked his blades around the sword and wrenched sideways.  
  
The sword was torn from Sirius' grasp to go skittering across the floor, so he slashed a quick attack with his dagger to give himself room and dove for the abandoned blade. Harry had other ideas, and managed to drop his own sword and latch onto the Animagus' ankle, preventing him from reaching his goal. Then he trapped the hand still gripping the dagger in an iron hold and pressed his own knife lightly to Sirius' throat. "Do you yield?" he asked softly.  
  
Sirius muttered, "Yes. Now let me up you great prat." Harry chuckled as he got up and offered his hand to hoist the older man to his feet. "You're good, very good in fact." They both were startled by the sudden applause, and Seamus and Ron even whistled and cheered wildly while accepting money from some of the others. Harry reddened slightly, but Sirius grinned widely and ever the showman took a deep sweeping bow.  
  
Remus laughed a bit as he approached them. "A little unorthodox, but good tactics and improvisation. Homework," he raised his voice so everyone could hear him, "two feet on the history of demon involvement in wizard wars, the various ways used to defeat them, and your interpretation of the most successful one. Due next week." The bell rang, and everyone scrambled for their bags, chatting excitedly about the class.  
  
Sirius caught Harry's arm as he walked towards the door. "I need to speak with you tonight, privately. Dumbledore wants us to go on a brief mission. After the Dueling Club?" Harry nodded and gave Sirius a brief hug, then joined his friends as they headed for History of Magic. Binns was dull as usual, plowing through his notes on 14th century vampire councils with all the enthusiasm of a flogged butterfly.  
  
In contrast to the rest of the class, Ron and Hermione were quite entertained as they scribbled on the parchments in front of them. Harry craned his neck to see what was going on, and grinned to see that they were using the IM parchments to flirt back and forth. He glanced up to see Ron's ears turn bright red as he gaped down at the message, and Hermione had stuffed her fist in her mouth to stifle giggles. Harry decided that he really did not want to know.  
  
***********************************************  
  
After their last class, the trio had time to stow their bags and relax in the Common Room before heading down to dinner, where they met up with Ginny again. Harry spent most of his time encouraging the others to eat, but they were too nervous about the upcoming evaluations to stomach much. Ron was even worse than Harry before a Quidditch match, and stared down at his fork spearing a glob of mashed potatoes without eating a single bite. Finally he gave up and ate his own dinner, the casually offered to go over any shaky part of their training again. It was like setting off a Dungbomb.  
  
Hermione immediately started asking him about the theory of Elemental magic, while Ron wanted to know more about the dueling tactics he had used earlier, and Ginny inquired about the more powerful eavesdropping and cloaking spells and how to combine them. Harry barely managed to keep ahead of their barrage of questions and led them down to one of Gryffindor's secret rooms he had found. This one was a training room, and a perfect place to do a little revision until it was time for the Dueling Club.  
  
Soon Ron was concentrating on his sword movements, going over the steps slowly, then speeding up as he got the hang of them. Ginny was in the corner under an invisibility charm, trying to sneak up on Harry and Hermione on the other side of the room, while using an eavesdropping spell to try and pick up on their conversation through the Silencing Charm Harry had placed. He was demonstrating the various Elements and their powers to Hermione, and explaining how one had to modify one's individual power to channel the Element, as well as how his staff worked in that regard.  
  
By the time they reported at the Dueling Club an hour and a half later, all were considerable calmer and more focused. Professor Figg started by dividing them into two groups, years three and four in one and five through seven in another. She told the Head Boy and Girl to begin teaching the younger students the Shielding spell while she taught the older ones some advanced curses and hexes. Harry was only half listening, slightly bored as he began fiddling with one of his knives in the wrist sheath. He pulled it out and flipped it from hand to hand out of sheer boredom, unnoticed at the back of the gathered students.  
  
A wicked idea flashed through his mind suddenly, and he allowed himself a smirk as he glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention to him. With the ease borne of experience, he conjured his clone and simultaneously went invisible, then casually slunk over to the side door behind the platform where the professor's table normally sat. He cast one look back at the doppelganger taking his place behind Ron at the rear of the crowd, then slipped through the door and jogged down the hall heading for the nearest window.  
  
He opened it and clambered out onto the narrow ledge, dropped the invisibility spell, transformed into a monkey and began climbing the outer wall. These old stone walls had lots of grips and handholds courtesy of the cracks in between the rocks. Grinning to himself, he reached the top of the ramparts and scampered along, curling his long tail behind him. He supposed he could have Apparated, but where's the challenge in that?  
  
Soon he swung into the Gryffindor Common Room, which was thankfully deserted. Silently Harry snuck up the staircase into his dormitory where he returned to his human shape and began rifling through his trunk. H dug out a couple of stowed items to shove in his pockets, then went out to the landing overlooking the Common Room to cast a little spell over the portrait hole. Smiling, he went back to the window and jumped out, reveling in the sensation of freefall before transforming again, this time into a phoenix, beating his powerful wings to create a downdraft and rose up again into the night air. He swooped around the castle a couple times, then sailed in through an open window and headed for the dungeons.  
  
Sneaking into the Slytherin Common Room was a joke, as it turned out that the entrance had a back door setting, if you will, meaning that any Parselmouth could get in. Definitely Salazar Slytherin's work and a prime example of how much he did not trust his colleagues. Harry found this out when he transformed into a snake in order to unobtrusively investigate the entrance and was hissing thoughtfully to himself. The wall ground open, and a very surprised Harry slithered in. He wondered if Dumbledore or Snape knew about this one. It slid shut again just as a second year entered the Common Room from the dormitories and flung himself on a leather chair, staring into the fire.  
  
Harry considered his options, then quietly turned back into his human self and cast an invisibility spell over himself yet again. Treading quietly, he began setting his traps, keeping an eye on the Slytherin, who seemed wholly preoccupied with watching the dancing flames. He was soon finished and mentally noted to thank Fred and George the next time he saw them.  
  
Now the only problem was getting back out, as the Slytherin would undoubtedly notice if the secret doorway opened for no reason. Taking inspiration from one of the few Muggle films he had seen courtesy of Dudley, Harry used a bit of wandless magic to knock over a book on the other side of the room, spilling an inkwell all over the carpet. The second year jumped at the noise, then paled when he saw the mess and hurried over to pick it up.  
  
Unnoticed by the frantic boy who was mopping at the mess but just making the stain bigger, Harry slipped out the door and back into the dungeons, heaving a sigh of relief once he was safe. On to parts three and four. With the help of the Marauder's Map he quickly located the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Common Room, and briefly wondered how in the world his father had managed to find them in the first place. Maybe it was Pettigrew in his rat form. Or maybe Sirius was really the ladies' man he made himself out to be in his youth. He grinned at the thought and sent him a mental thank you.  
  
The tricky part was getting in; he did not know the passwords obviously, and the entrances were locked tight. But whenever a door closes, a window of opportunity opens. He managed to fit through an open window in his raven form into the Ravenclaw one, after waiting for some first years to drag a stack of books back to their rooms. The spells were set quickly and efficiently, and he flew out before the students came back.  
  
Hufflepuff was a bit tougher without convenient windows to fly into, as the place was built almost like a badger's den deep inside the stone walls. Harry lucked out after lurking around the entrance for twenty minutes, when a second year came along and entered, unwittingly carrying along Harry the flea on the back of his robes. He chose a quiet place in the corner to work. The spells took a bit longer than necessary, as this Common Room was much more high traffic than the others, and several times a student unwittingly tripped a spell in progress and he had to start all over.  
  
When he finally escaped by hitchhiking on another student, he calculated that the Dueling Club should be about done and he had to run before Sirius approached his clone. It would ruin the surprise. The phoenix was a good form, as it was swift and had the ability to turn invisible, so soon Harry the phoenix was sweeping into the Great Hall again, only to nearly fall out the air in shock.  
  
His clone had not been idle while he was away. 


	21. Chaos reigns

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, so I do not own Harry Potter and company and am making no money off of this. You recognize it, it's not mine. Anything weird and unusual belongs to my twisted mind, and cannot be used without my permission. Find your own ideas.  
  
A/N: Okay, despite many wishes and attempts to the contrary, I am alive. Sorry this chapter took so long, but it is longer than my norm. I kind of wrote myself into a corner, then succumbed to a serious case of writer's block. And in case that wasn't bad enough, my profs decided that maybe I didn't have enough to do and saddled me with a whole bunch of homework and projects. It's amazing what can happen when you are up for 48 hours on 3 hours of sleep. After I post this, I'll have to go finish my philosophy essay. Oh well, enough crap from me. Enjoy the chapter and review! I thrive off reviews!  
  
I'm closing in on the end right now, and I promise I will finish this story before June 21st, because then I will read Order of the Phoenix and ignore this insane plot bunny forever.  
  
Some chapter notes: I believe Hermione lied about her boggart in third year. I mean, even while the most studious of bookworms would have a great fear than failing, she's made of stronger stuff than that. She's not that neurotic. So I put in my idea of what she really saw then. I bet most of you are thinking the same thing, but feel free to disagree with me. Remember that on Harry's situation map, blue are for Aurors and so forth while red are Death Eaters and gray is demons.  
  
Chapter 21  
  
Voldemort stalked slowly down through the ranks of waiting demons, the creature surprisingly quiet in the presence of their master as he surveyed them. The continuing infusion of power that his Lord and Master fed him with through the talisman allowed Voldemort to create these ones, a new breed, stronger and faster than the earlier ones. With that insufferable Wraith able to combat every other weapon he threw at him, the Dark Lord was now branching out in search of new ones.  
  
Now the demons' skin as well as their claws were poisoned, and they carried a greater array of weapons. Much as he loathed to admit it, the Dark Lord was forced to acknowledge that Muggles were actually quite innovative in inventing new ways to kill each other. Flamethrowers were rather fun, as well as grenades. He knew better than to allow his troops to have guns though; they didn't have enough control. The creatures' enthusiasm for havoc and destruction in battle combined with bullets would result in too many casualties on his side. Pity.  
  
Several of his Death Eaters stood off to the side, still very apprehensive in the presence of the demons. Of course, that could have just been the smell. Regardless, they dared not approach and were visibly relieved when Voldemort finally led them out to another chamber away from the ranks. "My army is ready to carry the fear of my reign far and wide," the Dark Lord spoke quietly but confidently as they walked. "Yet we still have a few nuisances to take care of. Lucius, how goes your preparations?"  
  
One masked Death Eater bowed. "My Lord, your servants await your command. The latest information shows that we should have little trouble getting in. The demons' distraction should be flawless. The target post is lightly manned at present, believing themselves to be out of harm's way. Your agents in the ministry have managed to reroute most Auror patrols toward Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade."  
  
A twisted expression that could pass for a smile graced Voldemort's face. "Very good. We will go tonight. Be ready to depart in an hour. Now go." The Death Eaters all bowed then Apparated away to attend various duties. The Dark Lord passed his gaze over the doorway through which more demons were visible, arming themselves. His troops, fiercely loyal and hideously strong. Greater and more powerful than ever before. Like him. He raised his eyes toward the ceiling, seeing something other than the cold stone.  
  
"Now, Arthur Weasley, you shall die."  
  
**************************************************  
  
Tori Black yawned, exceedingly bored yet not allowed to leave quite yet. Why did she have to take the replacement shift when Lampret called in sick? Watchdog duty at the Minister's residence was sometimes considered punishment detail, and she couldn't recall having pissed off her superiors recently. Maybe they thought she needed downtime after working with the infamous Weasley twins. She snorted at that thought. After that thrice- weekly ordeal, her idea of relaxing was heading to the gym to beat the crap out of the combat dummies with martial arts.  
  
Sure, the twins were eager to learn and easy to train, but the near constant pattern of jokes and pranks was making it very hard for her to concentrate on the task at hand. They claimed it was all for their job, creating and testing new products that could be turned to weapons for the Order. Yeah right. Curse Capsules are one thing, but others . . . Like when Tori found the modified spiders in her underwear drawer, of which the contents had all been dyed a lurid pink with added frills. She couldn't even tell how they managed to get into her room. Great skills, but still . . .  
  
It was fine when it was just George, but Spike had been reassigned and Tori got Fred too. They conspired together, which was excellent when practicing combat and modifying new weapons, but detrimental to her sanity at times. Still, at least they were both cute and talented. She sipped at a mug of tea while contemplating how she could get revenge during their next training session. Her partner Lulich was monitoring the screens representing the wards around the Minister's house, and the other two Auror on duty were out on patrol. Once they got back the night shift would arrive, and Tori could go back to her flat for a bath and some sleep.  
  
A sudden chime made her jump, splashing a little tea over her fingers. "What is it?" Tori asked Lulich, who was now leaning close to the screens, trying to discern what had set off the wards. He shook his head. "Can't tell. Norris, Bacon, can you see anything moving out there?" he spoke into his Communication amulet. A crackle, then, "Norris here. Nothing. It's quiet as a tomb over here." "Bacon here. Just a second, I'm checking . . . there's some anomalies out here, unable to tell what they are. They're moving fast though. Wait . . . oh shit! Backup, need back -- . . ." The transmission from the Auror ended with a scream and a thud. Tori was instantly on alert, scanning the monitors then activating her Communication charm to DMLE headquarters.  
  
"Black to base. The Minister's residence is under attack. Looks like demons. One Auror down already. Emergency backup needed, urgent. Repeat, the Minister is under attack." A familiar voice answered immediately. "Received. Two companies en route now, red alert going out. Hold on until they get there." Tori smiled at the sound of Spike's voice, but simply answered, "Copy that." She turned to Lulich, a rookie barely a month out of training who was watching her with wide eyes, and asked, "Are you armed?"  
  
He silently produced a wand, but she shook her head. "Next to useless here. I mean real weapons. Knives, that kind." His gaze told her everything, and with a sigh she flung open a nearby cabinet to reveal a weapons locker with various Muggle and magical devices. Tossing him a pair of short swords, she instructed calmly as she strapped on her own and a few knives as well as Curse Capsules. "Magic doesn't affect them, so use these if one gets too close. Be careful that you don't cut off your own hands. We have to protect the Minister. Reinforcements are coming. Let's go." He swallowed and nodded, so Tori led the way out of the guard station towards the house, intent on her job. Before they reached the door, the first demon found them.  
  
********************************************  
  
Lucius Malfoy loved being sneaky, especially when he could then hide behind the power, money and prestige allowed to his name. He was no stranger to getting his hands dirty, when his white gloves could hide them from the world. After his capture and stint in Azkaban though, he could no longer pull rank over everyone as he once so enjoyed. It was only under Voldemort that he could again take pleasure in his position above others.  
  
Still, that long-ingrained habit of playing his real cards close to his chest paid off on stealth missions like this, reflected as he led the Death Eaters into the Wizarding Library of London, one of the best and most comprehensive in the world. It had taken them nearly half an hour to discreetly crack through the wards, then Stun the on-duty librarian before she could act. They'd Obliviate her on the way out.  
  
Lucius observed the vast catalogue of texts, refusing to let impatience creep into him. This would probably take a fair amount of time, but with their entry unnoticed and the distraction now being launched, they had it. The three other Death Eaters stared around, marveling inwardly at the information contained within these walls. Lucius glanced over at the only female Death Eater and gestured with annoyance for her to begin. A former Ravenclaw whose desire to learn everything, even those forbidden powers Voldemort offered, had far outstripped her logical reasoning or morals, she had worked at the Library often enough to conduct a search for the texts they searched for now.  
  
She waved her wand and muttered something, and a quill suddenly came to life on a desk nearby, poised to write on a parchment. She gave the keywords and search parameters, and the parchment glowed for a minute before fluttering off in the labyrinth of the shelves. Repeating the process with different keywords to five other parchments, she waved them off in search of her requested texts, then settled in an armchair to wait for them to return, eyes flicking over the books.  
  
She looked like a kid in Honeydukes with 50 Galleons of pocket money to spend, and could barely restrain herself from dashing to the nearest aisle and grabbing as many books as she could. The restrictions on the library prevented her from indulging every reading choice she wanted, particularly the Dark Arts section. Approval to read those texts could only come from a handful of academics, world-class all of them but hopelessly narrow-minded on the subject of Dark Arts. So what if that section carried the writings of masters such as Morgan le Fey, Grindlewald and Baron von Draykman? Her master had promised to her all the knowledge she craved, which is why she served him faithfully.  
  
The parchments did not return for nearly an hour, and then with a woefully short list. Correlating the separate keyword searches against the parchment she held, none of them matched. She sighed, then sent out another search for all untranslatable texts with and without images of Dark symbols. These came back faster, for the section was small with few completely unknown texts, but without titles for obvious reasons. Encouraged, she ordered the texts to be brought to her, which was done in a matter of a minute. Her part of the mission finished for the moment, she settled in at the desk with a scroll on the ancient Egyptian rune magic in their hieroglyphics.  
  
The other two wizards with Malfoy were the linguist experts. One a Slytherin whose ambitions were only matched by a mind sharper than diamond edge, and the other a Mid-Eastern scholar renowned for translating undecipherable and ancient languages, they were here to begin the real work. Pulling out parchment copies of a strange tongue, they flipped carefully through the available tomes and parchment scrolls, comparing the spidery characters with the written ones before them. Lucius sat, utterly bored as he watched them, yet too lazy to find a book that would interest him. He casually checked the heirloom pocket watch he carried, then snapped it shut. They had time, for the Ministry no doubt was in chaos at the moment and not overly concerned with its information repository.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Chaos (n): confused unorganized state, inherent unpredictability, complete disorder  
  
There was no doubt in Harry's mind as to what reigned in the Great Hall at the moment. His phoenix talons managed to find a purchase, so he regained his balance and perched up in the arches of the enchanted ceiling, trying to make sense of the mess in front of him, which he (or rather, his clone) was in the thick of.  
  
*****  
  
A series of unfortunate events:  
  
Slytherins are know to be cunning, sly, ambitious, and possessing of a certain disregard for rules. Unfortunately, not all of them possess brains, or subtlety. That was why a few of them chose the middle of the Dueling Club to follow their Master's orders, or at least part of them. Two seventh years had sidled up behind Harry (the clone) and began with the standard taunts, no doubt coached by Malfoy.  
  
"Well Potter, you've managed to displease the Dark Lord. You know, he'll go after your friends first. Starting with that mutt of a godfather; maybe he'll make a rug out of him. Then those Weasels you slum with. Hey, maybe our Lord will let us play with the Mudblood before we kill her too."  
  
Harry had refused to respond beyond an icy glare at both of them. They continued after a pause, trying to provoke a reaction out of him with increasingly vicious and obscene threats. Harry sighed and tuned them out; they had no more brains that the average English soccer hooligan, although they were slightly more interesting than the lecture on Binding spells Professor Figg was currently giving. But while he wasn't listening, Ron was, and after a particularly nasty comment regarding Hermione and his sister, his temper flared and he turned to them, drawing his wand.  
  
One Slytherin had seen him and drew his own wand, attracting Harry's notice so that he spun around to disarm him. Hermione had also been listening in, and while she had her wand out, her other hand was on her boyfriend's shoulder to restrain him. Ginny had been standing nearby, and was now next to them with her wand trained on the two older Slytherins unflinchingly.  
  
Apparently they had backup watching them, and seeing the two faced with four wands in the hands of four angry Gryffindors, the other Slytherins took out their wands to even up the score. Ginny spotted them out of the corner of her eye and turned a bit to face them, and a twitchy fifth year fired a curse at her. Thanks to nerves it missed her, but hit Ron instead, and he gasped in sharp pain but seemed otherwise unaffected.  
  
He began to face his attacker, but Hermione beat him to it, hitting the Slytherin dead-on with a Binding spell. He was soon wrapped neck to knees in unbreakable cords, and off-balanced he fell to the floor, his wand skittering away. The two seventh year Slytherins retaliated, sending hexes at the Gryffindors, who dodged. One hit another Slytherin, who dropped twitching, and the other hit Seamus in the back.  
  
The Irish Gryffindor's yell of surprise drew the attention of the rest of the Hall first to him, then to the pitched fight/duel going on between four Gryffindors and ten Slytherins. Fiercely loyal to their House and especially in a rumble against Slytherins, the Gryffindors all happily jumped into the fray, shooting spells at anyone wearing green. Luckily it wasn't Saint Patrick's Day.  
  
This pulled the reminder of the Slytherins in until it became a full out battle. Seamus jumped the seventh year who cursed him, and Dean was right beside him as they wrestled around, wands forgotten. Lavender and Parvati were seen in a catfight with Pansy Parkinson, next to Neville who was alternately cursing and punching Crabbe. Goyle was busy trying to pick both Colin and Denis off him, but couldn't move fast enough.  
  
At first the other Houses found this extremely amusing but tried to stay out of it, but that sentiment quickly switched when a wild curse hit a Hufflepuff sixth year, quickly followed by a Hurling hex on a Ravenclaw third year who hadn't managed to get her shield up fast enough. She hit the opposite wall with a dull thud, and that sound galvanized the Ravenclaws to follow the loyal and protective Hufflepuffs into the fray. A riot is an ugly thing, but it was about time they had one. It would have resembled a war, except in war there are clearly defined enemies. This was chaos, pure and simple.  
  
Harry found himself in the thick of it, ducking and repelling spells from all sides. Professor Figg tried to stop them, but a Muting spell sealed her mouth shut. He turned to help her, but instead found himself face-to-face with Draco Malfoy, a nasty smirk on his pale face. "C'mon Potter. Let's finish this."  
  
He brought up his wand and fired a pain curse that was just on this side of legality, which Harry easily dodged. He yelled "Expelliamus!" but Malfoy blocked it with a sneer, then retaliated, "Varisortiaum!" An ugly black light shot out of his wand, and Harry, unsure of what the strange curse could do, deflected it towards the ceiling. It impacted the enchanted skyview, which shimmered for a moment and sent down a lot of dust and a few rock chips. Nasty powerful little bugger.  
  
The clone scowled, then sensed the original returning. He glanced up even though he knew he could not see the invisible phoenix. The Aurors on duty chose this moment to charge in, no doubt drawn by the familiar sounds of battle. Dumbledore followed on their heels with several members of the Order; Harry grimaced briefly at the thought of interrupting their meeting.  
  
This gave Malfoy an opening, but one that he had planned on. As Malfoy shouted another incantation, Harry gathered up his energy in a could around him, early palpable in power, which absorbed the curse harmlessly and channeled the energy back into him. Refocusing it, he whipped his wand around to trace a circle above his head and brought it down with a whiplike crack.  
  
Instantly all the Slytherins took to the air, away from their duels. Malfoy would make a wonderful Muggle airplane; he flew beautifully, more so than on his broom, Harry decided with a certainly vindictive pleasure. As a whole the students slammed into the walls none too gently and stuck there like fly paper, some in very comical positions. The two idiot Slytherins ended up stuck towards the bottom, one spread eagle like a frozen jumping jack, and the other twisted around with his left side to the wall, arm outstretched while the right wrapped around his body and stuck to his ribs.  
  
Their presence as wall decoration stunned the other students, but not nearly as much as Harry abruptly bellowing "FREEZE!" All movement in the Hall stilled, and they stared at the furious teen in the center of the mess. At this point, the real Harry decided that maybe he should rejoin the clone before things progressed any further. He flew to the clone, carefully avoiding the students that could get caught in the backdraft, and quickly merged the two forms, assimilating memories as the phoenix form disappeared. Integrated again, he unsealed Professor Figg's mouth, briefly caught Dumbledore's eye, and strolled over to the seventh year Slytherins who had started it all.  
  
Glaring furiously at both of them, he spoke quietly yet his words rang through the silence. "Do you remember what the headmaster said only a day ago? In dark times we must stick together; harassment and threats against another student will be punished severely." Their arms caught his eye, and he continued, "But that is nothing compared to the fate waiting for convicted Death Eaters." Ignoring the gasps around the hall and the horrified looks on the two faces, he caught the ripped sleeve of one and finished the tear, revealing the vivid Dark Mark branded there. A quick shove of another sleeve showed the other's matching tattoo.  
  
The students still standing began shouting in confusion and horror. Death Eaters here? But this was Hogwarts! The Aurors put on their business faces and quickly closed on the two Slytherins as Harry released them from the wall. One Auror contacted DMLE headquarters that they were bringing in a couple of Death Eaters as his companions arrested them, and Dumbledore added quietly to them that they were both summarily expelled.  
  
After they were led away, Professor Figg clapped her hands to silence the murmurs. "Club is dismissed for the rest of the night. Fifty points will be taken from all Houses for fighting, and another hundred from Slytherin for initiating the brawl. Now back to your dormitories immediately before I take off more."  
  
Grudgingly they did so, many scowling at the Slytherins before heading off to their respective Common Rooms. Soon only the professors, Order members, and the four Gryffindors were left in the Great Hall. Dumbledore sighed wearily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Harry, could you please tell me what happened?" Harry shrugged and commented dryly, "Apparently they don't understand the concept of 'Don't Get Caught.'" Ron spoke up and gave a concise account of how the fight escalated, not mincing his part in it, with a couple of contributions from Hermione and Ginny.  
  
When he was finished, the headmaster appeared pensive. "This is not good. It increases House rivalry as well as personal grudges." He turned to the Heads of Houses. "Do what damage control you see fit, and try and defuse tensions. Severus, be careful. Most of your House considers you a traitor after all. Be back here in half an hour or so; we do still need to test these three tonight." The headmaster then turned to Arabella Figg with a slight grin on his face, hidden by his long beard. "I believe you have first dibs on the tests."  
  
She nodded and smirked a bit as she faced Ginny, Hermione and Ron. "Very well. Welcome to the first stage of evaluations. You will all duel with me individually to begin with. Standard rules, everything except extra weapons and illegal curses allowed. First to disarm their opponent wins. I'll be watching for style, strengths, creativity, and variety. Do your best. So, who's first?"  
  
*****  
  
Ron took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves, fingering his wand. He caught Hermione's eye and she winked at him, eliciting a slight smile. Okay, he could do this. He faced Arabella and at her signal bowed, then snapped into his dueling stance, slightly crouched and right side forward, giving him a smaller profile and easier movement, weight balanced. Flitwick, once a dueling champion and now observer, counted down and yelled, "Go!"  
  
Immediately Arabella sent a Disarming spell his way; he dodged to the side and shot back with a Stunner. As they fought, Ron recalled Harry's and Eva's lessons. Keep moving; a mobile target is harder to hit. Diversify curses; never stick to a predictable pattern. Strategize; look for weaknesses and exploit them. Stay cool and focused, ignore all taunts and attempts to rattle you. Get physical, most wizards can't split their attention to face a two level battle. Distract your opponent as much as possible. Don't overextend; cockiness gets you killed.  
  
The duel continued. Arabella leapt away from his spell, circling closer as she used a fireball for a diversionary tactic. Ron doused the flame and followed through with the Binding spell she had taught earlier, but then whispered another curse right on its tail that she wouldn't be able to dodge. Sure enough, the Dueling professor easily avoided the first even as she began her spell, but cut off in mid-incantation as his second impacted her stomach and threw her backwards about ten feet. Her old Auror instincts kept her wits together, and even as she landed painfully and turned it into a roll to her feet, Ron stumbled under her hasty spell and nearly dropped his wand.  
  
Arabella recovered a second faster than the teen and fired three curses in rapid succession as she closed in. Ron barely dodged the first, snapped up a shield in time to deflect two and three, then dove and rolled away from her attack. A punch is just as good as a Disarming spell, and Arabella packed a wicked roundhouse. Ron snapped off a kick to her kneecap, which impacted with enough force to lock it but not break it, and she winced in pain. He used that instant of distraction to dive at her, sending her to the floor with the strength of his tackle. He reached up and snatched her wand from her grip. His weight pinned her legs down as both wands pointed at her face, and he flashed a grin. "Yield?"  
  
The professor tried to scowl, but approval twinkled in her eyes. "Yield." He helped her to her feet and gave back the wand, which she pocketed while beginning her evaluation. "Very good Ron. You seem to have a talent with this, especially the physical part." He grinned. "Having five older brothers helps." "You have to work on ignoring the effects of curses, at least to the point where you instincts can still override. Other than that, all you need is experience to refine and polish your style, plus improve your instincts and reaction times. Good job." She shook his hand and turned to Ginny, who had been watching intently from the side. "I believe you're next."  
  
*****  
  
Harry watched Ron's duel as Sirius spoke quietly with Remus and Dumbledore, noting with pride how well his friend was doing. While his forte may have been chess and strategy, Ron still made a formidable dueling partner and opponent. He liked to utilize his experience as Fred and George's younger brother by employing some of their favorite trap curses to distract opponents. Harry chuckled when Arabella's hair suddenly sprouted carrots and disrupted her spell, recalling when he pulled that on Eva. Ron had come away from that with a very uncomfortable Atomic Wedgie curse that lasted until dinner, but his voice squeaked for an hour after that.  
  
As Ginny prepared for her duel, Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder and brought him into the conversation. "Is your motorcycle here?" Harry had to shake his head regretfully. "No, she's at my house. There was no place safe here to store her. Imagine if some first years found her, or worse Slytherins." Both Harry and Sirius shuddered at the thought. "Well, Dumbledore wants us to check out a small Muggle town where a wizard family is currently hiding. So we want to blend in as much as possible to avoid detection and drawing attention to them." Harry nodded. "Why are they hiding?"  
  
Sirius sighed. "Their daughter is possibly one of the last true Seers in the world, so they've been teaching her at home. Too many people around, especially wizards, interfere with her Sight. We don't want to bring her to Hogwarts unless it's absolutely necessary, but they're at risk. So we have to check out the town inconspicuously, set up an emergency Portkey as well as some undetectable wards." Harry absorbed it all silently, then simply asked, "When do we leave?"  
  
Sirius glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded. "I was figuring we could fetch your bike tonight, fly in under cover of darkness and reconnoiter the town, set the wards and Portkey in the morning, and be back here before lunch. The problem is you missing classes might be suspicious." Harry rolled his eyes. "Sirius, did you forget about my clone? I never missed a single class last year. It won't be a problem."  
  
His godfather blinked a bit in consternation. "Oh yeah." Remus chuckled a bit. "Your memory's going in your old age Padfoot." "Shut it Moony. At least I still have all my hair in its original color." Remus ran a hand through his graying hair, "That's because it feeds off your brain. With nothing left, it'll go soon too." The two Marauders glared at each other briefly before twin grins of amusement completely ruined the effect.  
  
Harry and Dumbledore exchanged smirks at this, then the headmaster cleared his throat and remarked, "It's getting late. You had better be on your way if you are going to fly there tonight. Good luck, and I expect you both to report back tomorrow. Now I must see to my challenge for your friends." He winked, shook hands with Harry and Sirius, then walked off. Remus put a hand on the teen's shoulder. "By the way, convey to Eva my sincerest thanks for her gift." Harry looked confused for a moment, then smiled with understanding. "So it did work?"  
  
The lycanthrope nodded as a bright grin spread across his face. "Unbelievably well. It takes away the pain of the transformation, and keeps my mind even more human than the Wolfsbane." He sighed. "It's more like being an Animagus one night a month, and a lot more bearable. I won't be missing classes this year recovering." Harry matched his grin and hugged the man tightly, knowing how much a relief from a curse this was for him. "I'll tell her. Maybe you can make it available to more werewolves." "That would be perfect." Sirius cleared his throat, and they broke the embrace.  
  
"But later. Now we have to leave," the Animagus looked at his watch. Harry nodded. "Let me fetch a few things and leave the clone behind. I'll meet you outside the main entrance in ten minutes." He threw a glance towards Ginny's duel, then the other tasks that the professors were setting up, mentally wished them all luck, and ran for the stairs.  
  
*****  
  
Hermione eyed the door apprehensively, clenching her wand as she tried to prepare herself for the unknown. Last time she had been through this door, a three headed dog stood guard over a trapdoor. Remus stood by and watched her with a slight smile. Of course he would smile; he wasn't doing this, he just put it together with a couple of the other professors. Holding her head high, she walked up to the door and pulled at the handle. Locked. She muttered "Alohomora," but it stubbornly refused to open. She tried another spell with no success, then thinking back to her summer research, cast a tricky charm that would reveal what spell was keeping the door locked.  
  
A shimmering tangle of knots appeared, meshing the hinges into the wall and making it impossible to open physically. It wasn't locked, it was jammed. Hermione nodded to herself, noting the ingenuity even as she worked at undoing the spell knots. Finally she stepped back and gave the wood a solid kick, breaking the last vestiges and swinging it open. With a side glance at Remus' amused grin, she walked in warily but confidently.  
  
*****  
  
Ginny ducked around a corner as the Death Eaters ran past, looking for her. She breathed out a silent sigh of relief. Even though she knew they weren't real Death Eaters - probably illusions or transfigured animated objects - they were realistic enough to rattle her a bit. And they packed a nice punch, she reflected ruefully as she rubbed her shoulder which still tingled where a curse had hit her. Her shield had been a bit slow and failed to stop that one. Her object in this task was to find an object in the center of this maze, then make it back out undetected.  
  
So far she had had to break through a couple of wards to enter (she mentally thanked Bill for teaching her the basics of curse-breaking last summer), avoid two groups of Death Eaters, and slog her way through a swamp, leaving no trace while ignoring a hinkypuck. No doubt the professors had fun putting this together, and she marveled at their combined skills even as she did her best to defeat it.  
  
Hearing nothing around her for the moment, Ginny peeked out and scanned the immediate area, the crept quietly but quickly along the path, orienting herself to the center. Her mind flashed back to the Third Task, watching the champions in the maze from the stands, until Harry and Cedric disappeared. She shook the thought from her head; it would only distract her at the moment. Stay focused.  
  
Unwilling to use magic in case someone was actively searching for her, Ginny kept all her senses alert, hone from years of sneaking around her brothers and parents. The twins rarely pranked her, because Ron gave better reactions and Ginny always retaliated when they weren't looking. She could fade into the background easily, and was always the least suspected. It hadn't served her so well during her first year though.  
  
The stench caught her attention first and instinctively she went for the shadows at the base of the hedges, getting out of the way and hiding as the first scout demon loped down the path, followed by five more. She caught her breath and shrank back a bit more, recalling what Professor Lupin had lectured them on that day. Coolly running through possibilities and escape routes, she kept stock still, barely even breathing as they approached her hiding place cautiously, searching. In less than a minute they'd find her.  
  
Ginny spotted a gap in the hedges three feet from her. It looked big enough for her to squeeze through, but it might as well have been a mile away. If she moved they would see her, and she would be dead. She needed a distraction, but what? Any spell would emit light and draw them right to her. She shifted a bit, and froze as she felt a package in her pocket. She recalled that she had a bag of Zonko's tricks from earlier in the day, and she rummaged through her robes to find it, withdrawing a Filibuster Firework. With a quick prod of her wand, it started sputtering, and she chucked it as hard as she could.  
  
The distraction worked beautifully, as the firework exploded above the demons' heads and slightly behind their path. All six creatures spun at the noise, and sparks fell on one demon, which was soon smoldering with little licks of flame playing over its skin. While they snarled and searched in the other direction, Ginny dove through the hedge, wiggling a bit as her robes caught on the branches. She emerged on the other side free and clear, if a little scratched. Making sure she was alone again, she set off again towards her goal.  
  
*****  
  
Ron emerged from the maze, sweaty and tired from that last fight. Man, they were really testing his abilities on this one. Just get from one side to the other, no problem. That is until he had run into Death Eaters, demon patrols, boggarts, a nest of spiders, rampaging hippogriffs, and a couple of curses and hexes just to round things out. But he was out now, and he smiled a bit to himself even as he kept one hand pressed to his bleeding shoulder. One of the hippogriff's claws had slashed him before he Stunned it.  
  
Dumbledore was sitting at a table nearby and gestured him over to the free seat, which he sank gratefully into. "Well done Mr. Weasley. You came through that spectacularly. I especially enjoyed your . . . unique way of defeating the boggart." Ron shrugged, winced at the incautious movement, and said, "Thank you sir. Where are Hermione and Ginny?" The headmaster gestured to the door that the teen had just exited. "In the maze. All of you had a different path and objective, but essentially the same obstacles."  
  
Ron's mouth dropped open, and he jumped to his feet, shoulder injury forgotten. "What? In there? With the demons and boggarts and Death Eaters . . . ." His protests were cut off by an upraised hand and a frown. "Yes Ron, with all that. Understand that both Ms. Granger and Ms. Weasley are very capable witches in their own right and can take care of themselves. You have known them for years and trained with them this summer, so you of all people are aware of their strengths."  
  
Ron sat back down, his ears red and muttered, "Yes sir, I'm sorry." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Don't be. That protective streak can be counted as one of your strengths, as long as it is tempered at times." With a wave, a chessboard appeared on the table between them. "Now we much focus on your other strengths. I seem to recall a particularly well-played game back in your first year, and I would like to see how much our skill has improved since then." Dumbledore nudged a pawn forward and gestured Madame Pomfrey over. "She will bandage you up as we play. Your move."  
  
******  
  
Hermione kept an eye on the sphinx as she stepped past him, even though she had solved his riddle. It had been a puzzling challenge, but she thrived on just that sort and had worked it out with relish. She continued along the path nursing a bruise from a Hurling Hex that had thrown her 20 feet into the hedge. It seemed unusually quiet, and so she kept her wand at the ready. She turned the corner and froze in her tracks.  
  
On the path ahead of her lay a familiar figure, face down, bright red hair contrasting sharply with the black of his robes puddled around his body. "Ron!" she yelled and ran for him, dropping to her knees and rolling him over carefully. What was he doing in the maze? There was a horrible sense of déjà vu about this scene, but she ignored it in her worry for her boyfriend. She cradled his head in her lap and gasped.  
  
Ron's blue eyes stared vacantly up at her, and her horrified gaze took in the blood spattering his face in horrible imitation of his freckles, oozing from a gaping wound in his chest. Blood spilled over her hands, hot and sticky, and the sharp metallic tang stun her nose.  
  
"In stab wounds, it is usually not the wound itself that is fatal. In the chest area, for example, blood fills up the pericardium and pleural cavities, leaving the heart and lungs no room to expand. The lungs collapse in on themselves while the heart stops beating, and the victim slowly suffocates on his own blood."  
  
For once Hermione cursed her steel trap mind as a passage from a forensic textbook floated into memory. Hot tears spilled down her face and she was vaguely aware that she was begging, pleading with him to live, to not leave her here. He couldn't leave her, not like this, not now. He was her best friend and her love. The déjà vu was growing stronger. This was too surreal, creepily familiar.  
  
Abruptly her mind made the connection. Third year. Defense Against the Dark Arts final. The boggart in the trunk. She had lied about what she had really seen. But this one was slightly different. In third year she had seen both Ron and Harry. Dead like this. She had run out screaming, and had never been so glad to see the two of them in her life.  
  
With that fact established, she tried to control herself. Ron was not here, he was somewhere safe, alive. She drew a ragged breath, trying to think of a way to defeat this. Boggarts are destroyed by laughter. There was no way to make this funny. It was too real. But something didn't have to be funny to be laughed at . . .  
  
Suddenly Ron opened his eyes and said, "Never knew Fred and George could make fake wounds so realistic. They'll make a killing with these in their joke shop." Hermione stared down at him for a moment, then a bubble of hysterical relieved laughter burst from her, and she slapped him. "Ron! How could you?!" she yelled, then pointed her wand and shouted, "Riddikulus!"  
  
With a crack Ron was gone, as was the blood on her hands. She breathed a deep sigh of relief, wiped her eyes and stood up, then started for the exit of the maze again. She promised herself that when she got out of here she would have to give Ron a huge kiss to let him know just how much he meant to her.  
  
********************************************  
  
Harry and Sirius Apparated to his isolated house in the highlands, and Sirius again admired the expansiveness and furnishing of it. "I still can't believe that this is all yours." Harry smirked. "Sometimes neither can I. It's a bit different from a cupboard under the stairs." His godfather snorted. "Just a bit." The teen led the way into the house as he spoke. "The new Detection parchments for the Order should be done by now. Feel free to grab a snack." Sirius chuckled as he made a beeline for the kitchen. "How did you know I was starving?"  
  
"You're just like Ron - always ready to eat," Harry called back with a grin as he unsealed the War Room. A quick glance at the screens showed nothing immediately important, so he stepped over to the table where the new parchments lay. A couple of quick incantations proved them to be in excellent working order, showing the same information currently flashing up on the wall. Smiling with satisfaction, he shuffled them into a stack and began rolling them up to put in his pack.  
  
Just then a chime rang out, corresponding to a sudden sting in his left arm. Letting the parchment unfurl in his hands, he stared down at them for a second, then up at the main screen. "Sirius! Get in here!" he yelled as he continued scanning the screens, mentally tallying up what he was seeing. Sirius came running in with a sandwich in his hand. "What is it?" "Demon attack. Too many to count, it's not picking up individual signals. No Death Eaters." "Location?" Harry gestured at the screen, and Sirius read the flashing information and paled a bit. "Oh shit."  
  
Harry nodded and grimaced as a blue dot faded out, overrun by a gray swarm. It was quickly followed by another. "The Aurors don't stand a chance. Let's go!" They ran out of the house, leaving behind a half-eaten sandwich and scattered parchments. The screen flashed again as another blue dot disappeared, leaving two blue dots, labeled Arthur and Molly Weasley, in a house surrounded by a legion of gray. 


	22. A Sharp Turn to Disaster

A/N: Ack!! Why does real life persist in intruding on my beloved wanderings into fiction land? Two bloody months! I'm trying to get this done as quickly as possible, but apparently my profs want me to spend more time writing something that they will read. *goes off to mutter vicious imprecations even as she puts the final touches on a particularly nasty project after 3 days without sleep* Anyway, sorry this has taken so long to update. I had to take a little break to focus on schoolwork. The semester is over for me, so I'll actually have some time to write over the summer. I will finish!!! Especially if I can actually access the Internet from my laptop.  
  
Bukama, your train of thought follows logic beautifully, and most people would write it like that. I, however, am not most people. Go focus romance hormones on something other than this fic.  
  
Darkclaw, I agree, Voldemort in a tutu is rather disgusting, and a proud (or maybe not) product of my severely demented mind. So yes, I am twisted. That was one of the best compliments a reviewer has ever given me, so thanks. *smirks*  
  
Thank you to all you wonderful reviewers out there who have actually stuck with this monstrosity for the past nine months, (not to mention my bad moods, moderately evil cliffhangers, and long updates), who have worried about me and whether I would finish, and those who leave the best reviews that know how to inspire me to write more. And as for this chapter, just remember: "To be loved is to be fortunate, but to be hated is to achieve distinction." *grins evilly*  
  
Wheee!!! I've reached some landmarks!! 200 pages handwritten (and my writing is tiny!), who knows how many typed, and over 100,000 words posted, not counting author's notes! And hopefully I'll get the next chapter up by this weekend, which will mark the one year anniversary of when I first started writing this thing. Man I'm a geek!  
  
Standard disclaimer: Yeah, I own Harry Potter. And I'm also the Grand Empress of the Collected Universe Just Short of the Expanding Edge, and co- author of "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy Limited to the Sixth Quadrant." *rolls her eyes* Yeah right, and frankly I'm glad I don't. JK Rowling gets the headaches. I get to 'borrow' her toys to play. *grins*  
  
Chapter 22  
  
The nighttime silence of the Wizarding Library of London was broken when Lucius Malfoy snapped shut his watch for the sixth time in the past hour and glared at his colleagues still bent over their books, conversing in low tones as quills skittered over parchment. "Have you made any progress?" he bit out with a touch of impatience, which only earned him a silently frosty glare thrown over the shoulder of the Slytherin linguist.  
  
Sighing, Lucius shifted in his seat which had become particularly uncomfortable by now, wishing he could be elsewhere instead of babysitting bookworms. Specifically he wanted to be in the attack on the Minister's complex tonight.  
  
He sneered; how that Muggle-loving fool became Minister was beyond his comprehension. Just goes to show how much the wizarding society had disintegrated in the past few years. He wanted to curse Arthur Weasley to hell and back for all the insults and damages the red haired weasel bastard had been responsible for over the years.  
  
His reputation, the family name, all his beloved heirlooms, the manor which had been in his family for generations, not to mention all the extremely valuable Dark Arts artifacts and tools in the secret room under the drawing room - all seized by the idiotic Ministry.  
  
With his Master's help and patronage, all the Malfoy property would be returned to the rightful owners once the world was remade, and proper respect for pure magic blood would be instilled in every wizard and witch. He sighed imperceptibly and threw an annoyed glare at the scholars, now poring over yet another musty old scroll with avid interest.  
  
That is, if these middling idiots could only figure out how to read that damn book.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Arthur ran through the corridors of his house with Molly at his heels, heading for their underground bunker that held emergency Portkeys. Another blast shook the house, and they ducked debris that fell from the cracking ceiling. Dust coated his thinning hair and settled in the creases in his face, making him seem as ancient as Dumbledore.  
  
Molly's once bright hair was hanging in straggly knots around her face, also covered in gray lightened only by a bright splotch of blood. She had been hit by some flying glass, and as she ran she wiped small trickles of blood from her face.  
  
From outside a huge window that once overlooked the expansive gardens, Arthur only saw leaping flames illuminating the hideous figures surrounding the house, and his heart leapt into his throat. They didn't have much time. Briefly he cursed not having the Portkeys more accessible, but it made sense at the time to put them downstairs.  
  
They had never expected a swift attack without warning, nor to be so completely helpless. These new weapons were tearing the house apart, and they would be lucky to get out in one piece. He swore to himself that he would get Molly out, if nothing else. He could give her time to get out.  
  
Hurrying through the front rooms, Arthur was so intent on his goal that he nearly tripped over the body lying in the middle of the floor. Molly gasped and knelt beside the inert figure, carefully turning it over in the illumination from the fires raging outside.  
  
Tori Black gazed back up at her, gasping with pain from a burn stretching across her back and shoulders and a gash on her head. She was spattered with blood, far more than what could have seeped from her cut. One hand gripped her wand while the other dropped the shattered remains of a sword to grasp Molly's hand.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley," she panted, wincing, "the demons surprised us, took out the patrols before we even knew they were there. We called for reinforcements, and my partner and I headed for the house to protect you, but one found us before we could cross the wards."  
  
She grimaced. "They slaughtered Lulich, I barely got away. I don't think we'll survive long enough for the Aurors to come. They breached the wards and attacked the house right after I got inside. It couldn't have taken them more than two minutes."  
  
Gingerly Molly helped her to her feet as another detonation rumbled the foundations. "We're heading for the Portkeys. Think you can make it?" Tori coughed but nodded with determination. "Let's go." But before they could go another step, the front window imploded, showering them with formerly unbreakable glass shards.  
  
Arthur's eyes widened when he saw the Muggle grenade sailing inside. "Get down!"  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Dumbledore sat at his desk and contemplated the three teens sitting wearily in front of him with a fair amount of pride. They had managed to pass every test the Order was able to throw at them with flying colors and demonstrated quite admirably their individual strengths and skills.  
  
Although they were showing signs of exhaustion and a deep desire for this day to be over, their faces also reflected some pride at their accomplishments and self-assurance in their own abilities. The Headmaster mused on how much they had grown in just a few year from mere children to confident young adults. He couldn't stifle a smile as he addressed them.  
  
"Mr. Weasley," Ron straightened up a bit and met Dumbledore's gaze evenly. "You have shown remarkable strength, both physically and magically. Professor Figg said that with a little more experience you will be a first- rate duelist, and a good candidate for Auror training after graduation." Ron let his smile stretch across his face along with a light blush, and Dumbledore continued.  
  
"However, your real talent lies with strategic thinking and analysis, getting into the mind of your opponent, analyzing weaknesses and exploiting them. This is particularly evident in your admirable chess skills. I must say that we used to tease Professor McGonagall after a first year beat her chess set, but now I see I may owe her an apology."  
  
Hermione grinned at her boyfriend when he flushed under the praise, and Ginny nudged him with an elbow. "For the Order I think you would be best employed as a strategy analyst and tactical advisor. It would involve collecting what little information our side gathers on Voldemort's movements for analysis and predicting what his forces are up to next.  
  
You may find yourself acting as a commander for our forces during battle if the need arises. You might see some front line action in the future, but only if our situation becomes dire." Ron thought about it for a minute, then nodded. "Sounds good to me, sir."  
  
The Headmaster next addressed Ginny. "Ms. Weasley, you also show a particular affinity for dueling and make a rather unpredictable opponent, which can give you a significant advantage. You also could be sent out to fight, but again only if there is no other choice. During the tests, the professors have all noted different abilities that would make you an excellent spy. A tendency to fade into the background, avoiding detection, creative misdirection, improvisation, cool logic under fire, and a preference towards Invisibility and Concealing Charms. I believe your brother Bill has also taught you the basics of curse breaking, yes?"  
  
Ginny inclined her head faintly in recognition with a smile tugging at her lips. Ron poked her gently. "Now all the years of sneaking around stealing our socks has come in handy," he teased lightly.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Professor McGonagall has said several times that you excel at Transfiguration. With your parents' consent, she will be instructing you on the Animagus transformation." He sat back and steepled his fingers as she stared back at him with wide eyes. "At this point, you cannot yet leave Hogwarts, so you will be responsible for keeping a watchful, if surreptitious, eye on the known student Death Eaters in the school. You may use any means possible to make sure that they do not compromise the security of the school and the safety of the students, but only take direct action if there is no other recourse. You will report back to both Ron and myself."  
  
He fixed her with a piercing stare. "Do not get caught. By anyone, even the professors. I cannot emphasize that enough." Ginny had beamed at the thought of becoming an Animagus, but sobered as he outlined her responsibilities. "I understand sir. And I won't get caught."  
  
Finally Dumbledore turned to Hermione. "Ms. Granger, you truly are the cleverest witch of your age, and I'm tempted to say of any age." She blushed at the high praise, and Ron grinned proudly at her. "While you are proficient enough at dueling to hold your own, your forte is clearly at the intellectual level in nearly every area. The last five years of topping your classmates and shattering academic records cannot be wrong."  
  
He flashed a small smile at her remarkable accomplishments. "Therefore the Order may use you in several different capacities, such as organizing and interpreting information, creating new spells, and working with Mr. Weasley for new defenses and such for our allies. Madame Pomfrey would also like to begin training you as a medi-witch, and Merlin knows we'll need those resources in the future." Hermione nodded firmly. "I accept sir."  
  
The Headmaster ran an appreciative glance over them again, determination glinting in their eyes. "You all have shown the qualities that make Gryffindor proud. I pray that his war ends soon, before you have to demonstrate exactly how deep that fighting courage extends." He checked his watch and cleared his throat, breaking the solemn mood. "Forgive me, I've kept you all out too late. It's already after midnight, and certainly past curfew. Here."  
  
He extended three purple sugar quills, and with some confusion the teens took them. "Hurry back to Gryffindor Tower. If you are waylaid by Mr. Fitch, show him these and tell him that I have given you permission to be out this late." He glanced over at Ron and Hermione, a twinkle in his eye. "No stopovers on your way, understand."  
  
He hid a grin behind his beard as they blushed; it was too much fun teasing the children in the first flush of love. He should really stop, but an old man had to get his thrills somehow. "You can eat them later," he indicated the sugar quills. "Now off to bed, and mind you, it would not be good to be late to lessons tomorrow. Potions, isn't it?"  
  
The two sixth years groaned, then bid the Headmaster goodnight. Ginny shook his hand and followed the other two out the door and down the spiral staircase.  
  
As soon as the last strand of red hair disappeared and the grinding of the staircase ended, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes as he briefly felt the weight of all his years and experiences press down on him. Fawkes peered at him from his perch, then fluttered over to his shoulder and sang a few notes of comfort. Dumbledore grinned up at his familiar. "Thank you Fawkes." Absentmindedly he petted the phoenix as he voiced his thoughts.  
  
"They are too young to have to do this. Spying, dueling, trying to predict Death Eaters, going through the aftermath of battles," he sighed again. He remembered his own student years at Hogwarts, when they were allowed to retain their childhood and a certain amount of innocence even if the professors wished they would all grow up.  
  
Nowadays, children were forced to carry burdens that most adult wizards would buckle under, and to assume responsibility of those far beyond their age. Sometimes the universe just was not fair, for Fate was a fickle and unpredictable mistress.  
  
"How many more generations must be affected by this, where the good die young before they can even live?" He thought of Harry and realized that no matter the outcome, the teen's life was basically ruined. Bred and trained for war, those skills which he was basing his entire life on do not translate well to peaceful society.  
  
Once this mess was over (if it was ever over) he would have little to turn to, to anchor him to the real world, to a life beyond hunter and hunted. He had never really known a normal life, and at this critical point that would shape exactly who he would be, he was trapped in a horrific war. Could he ever adjust to a normal life in society with all the burdens he carried?  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Harry tossed the keys to the Black Shadow to Sirius as they ran out of the house. "Here, Apparate with the Shadow and fly it to the Weasley's. We need to give them time to get out. The green button is the flamethrower, and there's a bag of Spell Spheres in the saddlebag. I'll take a portal. Go!" Sirius nodded his understanding of the rapid-fire commands as he swung his leg over the bike, and within seconds was roaring off into the night.  
  
Harry summoned extra weapons and transformed into Wraith even as the portal he was creating shimmered into existence, swirling with energy. Breathing quickly in preparation, he stepped through and was instantly transported into a war zone.  
  
In less than two seconds after he appeared, Wraith was already defending himself against three demons. Barely avoiding a slash of claws, he pulled his parvalleh and swung desperately. The hammer part caught one demon in the side and threw him away with crushed ribs poking yellow through shredded flesh and dark blood.  
  
With a backswing Wraith sliced the last two nearly in half with the axe side. Earning himself a breath of space, he pulled out his staff, feeling the pulse of energy as he grasped it tightly and called on his Elemental abilities just in time.  
  
The ruby atop the staff glowed brightly and shot out a beam of pure fire hot enough to instantly disintegrate the front lines of demons charging him. Whirling, he blocked an attack with the side of the parvalleh before sweeping the staff through its legs, dumping the creature on his back, then swung down and split its skull open to spatter gore over all of them.  
  
Spinning back around, he dodged a trail of fire sent his way, which managed to ignite the edges of his trenchrobe. When the hell did they get flamethrowers?! By then he was surrounded, and Wraith was fighting furiously both magically and physically. The night blurred into sweat, snarls, flames, clanging weapons, and spurting blood.  
  
An engine roar above him announced the arrival of Sirius, who immediately opened up with the flamethrower while still in the air. Briefly Wraith sent a mental thank you to Eva for adding that little feature instead of the cup holders or stereo. A couple dozen creatures collapsed in conflagrations before others turned their own flamethrowers to the sky.  
  
Sirius was forced to break off his own attack runs and climb higher to escape the jets. From this higher advantage, he chose a new strategy and flew towards the besieged house, setting Spell Spheres with his wand and dropping them into the swarming hoards.  
  
While demons are immune to magical attacks, they are still vulnerable to basic explosions. The earth erupted under their clawed feet, hurling them in droves backwards away from the manor. More crowded up to replace them, hurling small objects through the windows and playing the flamethrowers over the walls to set the building on fire.  
  
Suddenly another explosion blasted from the inside of the house, showering glass and bits of wood in all directions as flames shot hungrily out from inside the front window, licking up the walls. The manor trembled and began to buckle in places, giant cracks appearing up the sides.  
  
Sirius cursed vehemently and hoped that Arthur and Molly were still alive and able to get to the Portkeys. There was nothing he could really do for them except give them more time to escape, if they still could. Dropping another Sphere on the heads of two armed demons, he chanced a glance towards his godson. Wraith wasn't visible, his position only marked by the massive concentration of demons and the occasional flying head.  
  
Everything was burning - the manor, the gardens, the surrounding forest, various demon corpses - and the fires kept expanding as more fuel was added. This whole area would be nothing but a pile of ash by the time they were done. Steering away from another blast, he flew over a clump of smoldering corpses and caught a whiff of putrid smoke rising from them. Sirius choked, grimacing at the acrid smell, then a new fire was started, this one burning in his throat and trailing quickly down to his lungs.  
  
Feeling as if his entire respiratory tract was melting, he coughed harshly, and each breath became a struggle. Gasping and choking in air, he tried to focus on the battle below him and vaguely registered the arrival of what seemed to be the entire Auror corps. Dizzily he directed the bike towards the edge of the still active wards, wanting to get out of the way and back to Hogwarts for help, but his vision was swimming and his hands no longer seemed to obey him. His entire body was beginning to freeze up, no longer under his control.  
  
Fighting to breathe, to stay alive, to keep from crashing, Sirius focused every ounce of his being on the controls and willed his body to obey him. For a brief moment he was able to twitch the handles to circle upwards around the forest towards the meadow about half a kilometer away. But it only lasted a second, for without breath to provide him with life-giving oxygen, he could no longer stay conscious and passed out.  
  
Limp hands fell from the handles and his body sagged forward. The Shadow tilted with the change of weight and headed down in a steep dive for a promised crash landing on the hard, unforgiving ground.  
  
************************************************************  
  
Dumbledore was heading for his sleeping quarters when his fireplace blazed green and a head popped through. "Professor Dumbledore?" a male voice called urgently, and he hurried over to kneel in front of the hearth. He recognized the face of one of the younger Order members with the DMLE. "What is it, Williams?"  
  
The bleach blond Auror, who preferred to be called Spike, winced a bit at the use of his last name but reported quickly, "We've just had a call from the Minister's residence. They're under attack." The Headmaster started a bit. "Death Eaters?"  
  
Spike shook his head negatively, his expression somber. "Demons. Too many for the screens to pick up individually. They've already taken out the Auror outpost and it looks like the house is under siege. The screens only lit up after the call. We've had some problems here, but two companies are heading out now with reinforcements trickling in as they can. It looks like we're outnumbered though, and most of these people don't know how to kill these things."  
  
Dumbledore thought fast. "I'll call up every Order member I can, but it won't be many. However, Remus and Sirius have been stockpiling Muggle firearms on the sly for just this sort of situation. Remus will teach you how to use them, and I expect Sirius might show up with Wraith. Don't be surprised if they're already there." Spike nodded, "Got it," then disappeared with a whoosh.  
  
Throwing powder into the flames, Dumbledore called up every professor who could stand a chance against the demons and informed them of the situation. He debated calling the Weasley siblings, then decided they had a right to know about their parents. Bill and Charlie immediately answered and after hearing of the situation instantly Disapparated to join the battle.  
  
Percy was a bit harder to get a hold of, but it turned out that he was at the joke shop in Hogsmeade with the twins, apparently discussing quite amicably an innovation that they had asked for his help on. Pigs were not flying yet, but some had booked tickets on the next flight to Timbuktu. Dumbledore briefed them on what he knew, and the brothers gathered up their best products and Disapparated to DMLE Headquarters.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Lucius Malfoy had passed through several stages of boredom by this point: compulsive watch checking, twiddling thumbs, wand tricks, mental games of chess, personal Top 10 lists on various subjects (including why the Falmouth Falcons are superior to the Chudley Cannons), even so far as to actually go search for something interesting to read. Now he simply sat in his damnably uncomfortable chair leaning his head onto one hand, half asleep with his eyes just slitted open.  
  
A small piece of hair drifted across his face and he temporarily entertained himself by blowing it away, only to have it come stubbornly back. Oh, now this was a fascinating game. He could never get irritated at his hair; he saved that for living beings. He liked his hair, long, blond and silky smooth as it was, as one likes an obedient pet that by its mere presence exalts its owner. It went particularly well with black silk dress robes, the contrast making him seem especially intimidating.  
  
His affectionate musing on the strand dangling in front of his nose was disrupted by an eager shout, and startled he nearly fell out of his seat. Recovering his dignity, he swept his hair back into place and asked with cool biting precision, "Have you finished?" The scholars ignored him, preferring to jabber back and forth while running their fingers delicately along lines of ancient text and comparing it to the rumpled parchments in their sweaty hands.  
  
"See, the glyphs here are the precursors to the roots of those found in ancient Atlantean, but it seems to have employed syntax characteristic of Egyptian Amenemope." "Yes, and here when it switches to a Ugaritic textual the same syntax is repeated. I think it correlates to the Qohelet passages right here, which means it could have the identical translations. Analogous to the Rosetta Stone, but with greater time gaps explaining the changeable diphthongs." "Even so, the possibility of a pre-Atlantean root structure means we should transpose these with Sumerian writings of a pre-Indus origin, and probably some ancient Hebrew as well. The key lies within these three texts, but I think . . ."  
  
Lucius could not follow their excitement in the flood of lingo that managed to utterly befuddle him. He hated it when others made him feel stupid, so he interrupted in a louder voice, "Can you translate the book yet?" One shook his head despite his grin. "Not yet, but we've nearly uncovered the key to it. See, since it was written before any other previously known existing civilization, we have to work out the base root from their evolved descendents, and . . . ."  
  
Lucius cut him off with an irritable wave of his hand. "How soon can we leave? The Master will be expecting a progress report." He made a show of checking his pocket watch, and the woman looked up at him from her all- engrossing texts on the blood magic rituals of the Aztec wizards. "Are we leaving?"  
  
The Mid-Eastern wizard flicked his wand over some scrolls and a stack of parchment, and several quills began copying rapidly. "As soon as these are finished, we may leave. I will still need time to translate the book, but we are much closer than before." "And it only took you six hours to find which book to copy," Lucius couldn't keep the dry sarcasm out of his voice, earning glares from his three companions.  
  
"It is indeed fortunate that we discovered it so quickly. Normally this sort of job takes weeks of methodical research and dead ends," the scholar reprimanded him sternly, but the Malfoy patriarch was in no mood to be lectured. He fixed him with an intimidating glare and gritted his teeth.  
  
"Let your brains rot to dust with your precious books and dead tongues. I have other duties to attend to." The woman sneered back at him, "Yes, torturing Muggles and Mudblood children is so much more important in the long run, after all."  
  
Lucius was on the brink of pulling his wand when the Slytherin linguist intervened. "Stop. You're acting like children. Let's just finish up here and leave, and we'll all have separate duties to report back to our Lord."  
  
The remaining few minutes passed in strained silence, then the linguists gathered up their parchments while the woman sent the books off to their shelves. Lucius let the party out, Obliviating the librarian as they snuck back around the wards and Disapparated, with no one the wiser.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
The Auror reinforcements arrived with a bang, literally. A crack like a giant whip sounded through the air, followed by a thunderous boom, then a massive fireball bloomed in the center of the demon ranks, incinerating most and sending more flying.  
  
Wraith was knocked back and down by the shockwave, narrowly missing impaling himself on an abandoned sword. Scrambling to his feet in a flash, he was gratified to see the Aurors and several Order members spread out to begin their own assault.  
  
Wraith was expecting to see some weapons, with maybe a few new inventions by the Weasley twins thrown in, and he wasn't disappointed. But he was surprised to see that instead of wands most were carrying what looked like Muggle firearms. He could have sworn that that woman over there - was that Professor Figg? - was firing a Tommy gun like in the old gangster movies. Shots rang out through the night, adding their noise to the cacophony already deafening everyone within range.  
  
Sporadic bursts lit up their faces like strobe lights, increasing the unearthly surrealism of it all. Still, with the armored hides it took several hits to drop a single demon, and Wraith knew that unless something drastic happened, they would run out of ammunition long before the demons were stopped.  
  
Remus was at the front, firing straight through a demon's eye to spray gore and blood out the back of its head even as he shouted directions to the professors with him. They flanked out to form a semi-circle to concentrate their fire, and more creatures dropped. A couple of Aurors spotted Wraith off to the side and nodded quickly in salute at him before blowing away a snarling creature with a flamethrower.  
  
Smashing his parvalleh into another gruesome head, Wraith heard a familiar noise over the chaos and glanced up, looking for Sirius. To his utmost horror, he spotted his godfather slumped on the bike, locked in a dive that would splatter him and the Shadow into an ugly oily mess on the scorched ground.  
  
Desperate, he dropped the parvalleh and drew his wand, shouting, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The spell caught the bike and it drifted, bobbing gently as the strength of the magic holding it up competed with the magic directing it downwards.  
  
This movement caused Sirius' body to shift, and unbalanced the bike slanted to the side, and gravity again started to exert a grip on him. Slowly he tumbled off and began a fall through 50 feet of thin air. Wraith watched as if in slow motion as he released the bike from his spell and aimed for Sirius. Two meters off the ground the spell caught, and he stopped in midair, but by them Wraith was again under attack.  
  
A demon brought his sword down in a blow that would have bisected the wizard from his head to his stomach. At the last second he dodged, but the edge managed to catch the top of his shoulder deep enough to draw blood. He staggered to the side, one hand clutching the wound, then dropped and rolled to avoid another slash. Recovering, he planted a hard kick in the demon's chest and drove it back into its companions, accidentally becoming impaled on another's heavy knife as the weight knocked them both to the ground.  
  
Suddenly furious with this battle and impatient to see to his godfather, Wraith planted his staff and called up the wind to create a giant tornado in the middle of the grounds, which picked up the creatures around him to send skyward, squealing. An errant burst with a flamethrower lit the entire whirling cyclone, and the flames swirled around and grew off of it, turning the natural phenomenon into a blazing pillar of fire. Letting them stay up there and bash into each other as they roasted, Wraith sprinted towards Sirius lying on the torn and burned ground.  
  
Dropping to his knees beside the man, he cradled his head in his arms and called his name while checking his pulse at his neck, hoping for a response. No such luck. Sirius' heartbeat was weak and erratic, and he wasn't breathing.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Ron stepped through the portrait hole first into the familiar setting of the Common Room, weary beyond all expectations. He supposed they were lucky that they hadn't encountered anyone on their way back to the tower, but he had noticed a suspicious lax in the normal nighttime patrols. Where were the Aurors, the professors, Mr. Filch?  
  
The castle was eerily quiet and set his nerves on edge, and he had hustled the girls with him quickly up to the Fat Lady's portrait. The comforting crackle of the fire quickly eased his mind, and he consciously relaxed, feeling safe. He spotted Harry waiting up for them on the sofa, staring into the flames as shadows danced across his face.  
  
Ron eyed his friend a bit warily, for there were times when he swore he could tell the difference between the real Harry and the clone, and this was one of those times. Internally he shrugged; in the end did it even matter? It was the same person, same mind, just in two places at once. Still he decided to test the accuracy of his intuition anyway.  
  
With Ginny and Hermione right behind him, Ron plopped down in an armchair and groaned deeply. "The professors are even more sadistic than we ever guessed. I think they've all been taking lessons from Snape."  
  
Ginny nodded, sitting beside Harry on the couch as she massaged her shoulder and moaned, "Whoever put those demons in the maze should be hung by their thumbs from Filch's manacles."  
  
Hermione also sat, but chose Ron's lap instead of the other armchair. "Come on you two. You have to admit that it was rather interesting, and frankly some parts were even fun." "Only if you're a masochist," Ron grinned and gave her a quick kiss. Harry laughed quietly. "Don't hold back, tell me how you really feel," he teased. Ginny lightly smacked him with a pillow, which he quickly retaliated.  
  
Ron looked quickly around to make sure they were alone, then asked casually, "So is Wraith up to anything special tonight, or is he lying low?" Harry looked askance at him then quirked a slight smile at him. "He's off wrecking havoc with Padfoot tonight, but nothing earth-shattering. Just clandestine." He sighed theatrically. "I'm stuck with the homework while he does the dirty work. Sometimes I don't know which of us got the better deal."  
  
He turned back to Ron, suddenly quite serious. "How did you know?" Hermione was flicking her gaze back and forth between her friend and her boyfriend in slight bewilderment. "You mean . . . you're . . . he's . . . Ron, how can you tell?" Ron shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. "I don't really know, it's a feeling I get sometimes. I don't think anyone else can tell though. If there's one thing I know, it's to follow my gut instinct. I just had to see if I was right this time."  
  
Harry sat back with a sigh, Ginny watching him closely, evaluating. "Ron, I really don't know how you can tell. Harry, I've watched you for the past five years," she was blushing bright red at this admission but continued doggedly, "and I really cannot tell any difference." Harry flushed slightly, but he still smiled as he wiped his brow with exaggerated relief. "Well, if you and Hermione can't, then I doubt anyone else even has a chance."  
  
He glanced at his watch. "It's late, and I want to be awake for Potions in the morning. I'm heading for bed." Ginny stood up and stretched. "Bed sounds nice. Good night." As she and Harry headed up to their respective dormitories, he turned around on the stairs with a mischievous grin. "Don't stay up too late giving him a lap dance, Hermione. I sleep in the same room with him and his Silencing charms are a little shaky sometimes."  
  
Hermione and Ron looked cute when they flushed the exact same shade of sunset red, and Harry had to duck around the corner and run as they flung matching curses at him. His laughter rang out and carried down the stairwell before being cut off by the dormitory door. Ron was muttering viciously under his breath as he pocketed his wand again, debating all the ways Harry could be hexed in his sleep.  
  
Hermione silenced his tirade with a kiss. "Ignore him love. That mouth can be put to better use." He caught a flash of her wicked grin before he closed his eyes. When they later broke for air, Ron grinned at her and ran a hand through her bushy brown hair. "Who is this Hermione? What happened to that fussy stickler-for-rules bookworm that took me four years to realize was a girl?"  
  
Hermione smirked as her finger traced circles on his chest. "You realized she was a girl, and she realized that not everything can be learned in books. Some things need to be experienced." She proceeded to show him just what experience had taught her, and it was a very happy Ron that wandered up to bed some 20 minutes later for some very sweet dreams.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Dumbledore was still in his office when, with three pops of displaced air, three bleeding and bedraggled figures appeared in the front room, where one promptly collapsed to the floor. As he hurried over, he was pleased to recognized the bright red-orange hair of Arthur and Molly Weasley through their coatings of blood and soot.  
  
Arthur limped heavily towards the Headmaster as Molly knelt next to the prone body on the floor, which was barely recognizable as Auror Tori Black. "Albus, it was a surprise attack. We barely made it to the Portkeys before the entire house started coming down around our ears." A deep breath caused him to break out into wracking coughs, and Dumbledore summoned a glass of water before calling Madame Pomfrey to his office.  
  
The nurse bustled in less than two minutes later and immediately started tending to Tori Black. Molly helped her, explaining all the while, "She fought off demons to get to the house, but they were carrying some new weapons. Some of the blood was her partner's." Pomfrey nodded as she waved her wand over several bleeding gashes, directing Molly on applying the ointments she had brought.  
  
Arthur sat in a chair watching as he spoke quietly to Dumbledore. "We were asleep when the wards went off, and seconds later we heard explosions from outside. I saw the demons from the window as they breached the first line and took out the Auror outpost and patrols. We ran for the emergency Portkeys in the basement and tripped over her in the front room." He gestured at Tori with sadness pulling down his features to make him appear twenty years older.  
  
"She barely made it inside before they crashed through the next line and attacked the house directly. Her partner didn't make it. They were carrying what looked like Muggle weapons: a tube that shot fire, and another - what did Hermione call them? Granadas? Grenades? - Anyway, they threw one through the window and I thought we were dead."  
  
He scrubbed at his face with both hands and sighed. "Tori saved us. She Banished it back outside and got a Shield up in time, then took the brunt of the explosion herself." He stared at the far wall blankly, reliving the scene. "The house was on fire. It sounded like the Aurors had arrived, and the demons broke off their assault temporarily. We hustled downstairs before they resumed, and activated the Portkeys just as another explosion started bringing the ceiling down on us."  
  
Dumbledore silently handed him a cup of tea as he spoke, and as the Minister absently stirred it with a sugar quill the Headmaster placed a hand on Molly's shoulder. "How is she?" he asked the nurse quietly, and she shook her head. "In bad shape, but she'll live. I need to take her down to the Hospital Wing. "  
  
"Very well. Arthur, Molly, go with her and let her check you over. Get some rest, you are safe here for tonight. I'll let you know as soon as we have more information." Subdued, the two got to their feet and followed Madame Pomfrey as she floated Tori on a stretcher in front of her. They disappeared quietly down the stairs, and Dumbledore watched another twin set of red hair leave to face an uncertain future for the second time that day.  
  
He frowned as he considered this new move. This was not good. The battle was still on at the Minister's former residence and he had no way to recall the Order from the now pointless action. He prayed that everyone would come back safe and sound, yet with an attack this large he sincerely doubted it. All he could do now was wait to see the outcome and make his next move accordingly.  
  
He knew enough chess strategy to know when he had been outmaneuvered. Voldemort was stepping up his attacks, and it looked like there was precious little they could do to stop him. Check.  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Wraith nearly stopped breathing himself. Frantically he pulled his vials of healing potions and phoenix tears out of his pocket, even though he didn't know what was wrong with Sirius. All he knew was that he had to save him. One shaking hand uncorked a vial, and tilting Sirius' head back he poured it down his throat, gently massaging his neck to get him to swallow.  
  
"Sirius, don't you dare die on me now," he muttered desperately, barely noticing the distant crash and boom that signaled the fiery demise of his beloved Black Shadow. Shaking the unconscious man's shoulders, he tried to make him breathe again.  
  
A distant memory of a Muggle technique flashed in his mind, and he settled Sirius on the ground., tilted his head back and pinched his nose shut, then took a deep breath and put his mouth over his godfather's, blowing air into unresponsive lungs. He did it again, then checked his pulse. It was getting weaker, and he still wasn't breathing. Trying to give the phoenix tears time to work, Wraith continued mouth to mouth, praying and hoping.  
  
Time ticked by, each second an eternity as he fought to save his godfather's life. When he next pressed trembling fingers to the man's neck, he couldn't feel a pulse. "No! Sirius, don't leave me, don't you fucking leave me! Damn it!" he howled as he started pumping on his chest to restart his heart.  
  
Wraith tried everything he could think of; his potions, more tears, Muggle methods, even going so far as to use his staff to conjure a miniature lightning bolt to shock him better than any Muggle defibrillator. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he worked feverishly over the still body, trying to force him to live. "C'mon Sirius, you can't leave me now, please," he murmured with a cracking voice as he waved his wand over him.  
  
Yet despite all his considerable powers, with the forces of nature and knowledge of millennia worth of magic literally at his fingertips, all Wraith could do was hold Sirius Black in his arms as he died.  
  
He stared down at the pale face of his godfather, the only real family he had ever known, and knew he was gone. A crushing sensation in his chest let him know that his heart was breaking. His eyes burned as he fought back tears, and gently he lowered the body to the ground, smoothing a hand over the lax features into a semblance of peace.  
  
A massive explosion behind him shook the ground and snapped Wraith back into the present. Whirling around on his knees, he saw the Minister's manor crumbling to debris as an inferno raged at its core, silhouetting the demons as they cavorted in triumph and fell savagely upon the Aurors. He watched as one of the Order members - the bleached blond hair gave him away as Spike Williams - fired several rounds into two advancing demons until his clip clicked empty. A quick search of his pockets revealed he was out of ammo.  
  
Undaunted, Spike threw the gun away and pulled two short swords from beneath his robes just as they engaged him. The battle was furious but short, and Wraith could only watch as the blond head went flying while the body it was formally attached to slumped to the bloody ground.  
  
A blind and unreasoning rage filled him, and he leapt to his feet snarling ferally. Foregoing his staff and weapons entirely, he sprinted nearly supernaturally fast to the nearest demon and grabbed its arm. Applying leverage, he spun it around towards another group rushing forwards then whipped out with a powerful double kick, simultaneously twisting the arm. A wet snapping noise accompanied a sickening tear as Wraith tore the arm off entirely, and the demon spiraled back into its neighbors to knock them off their feet.  
  
The creature's squeals of pain were cut short as Wraith, ignoring the putrid blood spattering him from ripped arteries, hefted the severed arm like his parvalleh and used the claws to rip open its neck. As it gagged on its own poisons and died, he quickly dispatched three demons within his immediate vicinity in similar fashion. Dropping the dismembered limb, he headed for another group terrorizing four Aurors including Bill Weasley.  
  
These ones saw him coming, and as one slashed open an Auror like a marshmallow another turned a flamethrower on him. Dodging gracefully, Wraith transformed into a gryffin and leapt, the lion's muscles propelling him straight into the demons. Sharp eagle's talons ripped into their chests, and with a clamp and a twist of his beak a head snapped off, which was then spat out with disgust. A sweep of wings beat Bill and an Auror backwards just as a grenade flew through the space their heads had just occupied. The gryffin caught the bomb on his wing and flung it back to explode right in its owner's hands.  
  
By now, with the main target accomplished, the demons had begun transporting themselves out, leaving only a few to finish up the battle. The Aurors pulled back for defense and were watching dumbly as the remnants were systematically butchered by the Animagus. After watching the last chest ripped open, the heart torn out and manually crushed to a pulp in one clawed paw, several Aurors turned and retched on the ground.  
  
Panting heavily and glaring down at the scattered carcasses, the gryffin seemed to realize that it was over and visibly deflated. Instantly it changed back into Wraith, nearly unrecognizable with his clothes slashed, burnt, muddied and drenched in blood. Wearily he surveyed the trampled and bloody earth, the slain corpses of demons and humans leaking blood, the burning grounds and the flaming pile of rubble that was once a fine manor house.  
  
Shaking his head in defeat, he stumbled back to the place where he had left Sirius' body, and fell to his knees beside him again. Grief overwhelmed him like a tsunami, overpowering and crushing, and this time when his eyes burned he let the tears fall as a sob was choked out of his throat. He let himself fall forward onto the still chest, head buried in the fabric of his robes.  
  
For the first time in years, he wept. 


	23. Requiem and Reactions

A/N: *wicked grin as she looks around with content* Chaos, destruction, mayhem . . . . my work here is finished. Well, maybe not quite yet . . . .  
  
Death threats! Wow, the reviewers are getting violent!! Someone even called me a bitch!! But take into account that Sirius' Animagus form is a dog, and I consider that a compliment.  
  
Okay okay, I'm sorry. I really like Sirius too, he's a great complex character and fun to write. But you did beg me not to kill the Weasleys. Be careful what you wish for. I wasn't actually planning on killing Sirius off originally, it just happened, like so many things around here. I was writing, and the next thing I know Sirius is dying in Harry's arms, completely out of no where, freak accident. I blame it on the coffee. But hey, what did I tell you all before? Nothing is as it seems, so just stick with me for now. *winks* Now the shit is really going to hit the fan. Enjoy the trip to hell.  
  
I think I need to explain something here. Auror Spike Williams is not Spike from Buffy. I have never watched Buffy, so I actually have very little idea of who he is. I was online one night with some friends and I was looking for names for the Aurors in the Order of the Phoenix, and I came up with Cody "Spike" Williams, who is distantly based on a friend of mine. Apparently he has since bleached his hair and actually resembled Spike for a little while. Rather scary, really. So any of you who think I stole another idea and did not give credit for it, you're mistaken.  
  
Clifjumpr13, again I blame this on you. One by one the penguins steal my sanity. Wait, they're too late. Never mix the Hamster Dance Song and "Die Hard". Congratulations to me! This is the one year anniversary of when I started writing this, on a single piece of paper on my bedroom floor. Now it's a handwritten 220 page monstrosity. Blah.  
  
Disclaimer: In case you haven't already figured it out, I don't own anything. I steal it, play with it, and return it broken.  
  
Chapter 23  
  
It was early morning, when the sun had not quite reached the windows of the Gryffindor boy's dormitory. The five inhabitants were sound asleep, some snoring, some dreaming, but all was fairly quiet. That is, until Harry woke up. He shot up in bed, nearly screaming from his nightmare. He sucked in great lungfuls of air as he tried desperately to calm his racing heartbeat, the last vivid images burned into his mind like a lithograph.  
  
Looking down at his hands, he could have sworn that just a minute ago they were stained with dark putrid blood, holding the lifeless body of his godfather. He let out a slow breath of relief, thankful for the bright sunlight that just peeked through his hangings. It brought everything back to reality. No, Sirius was alive and well, and when Harry went down to breakfast he would be there at the staff table sitting next to Remus. Or maybe not. He liked to sleep in.  
  
Flopping back down on his pillow, Harry rubbed his face with his hands as if to wipe the last traces of his dream away. This one had been pretty bad, but then again he had suffered through images of all his friends dying at one point or another. They tended to be fairly violent while he struggled against something to reach them. Of course, once he began battling demons his subconscious had more to work with, and several times he had half- expected to wake up with blood matting his sheets.  
  
Still, the worst one had been Ron and Hermione trapped underwater during the Second Task, and Harry was wrapped in the tentacles of the giant squid, unable to do anything but watch as they drowned. That one had woken him screaming and in a cold sweat for a week afterwards. Ruefully he reflected that Freud would have a field day with his dreams, and probably concoct some pseudoscientific sexual meaning behind them. Thank all the powers that be that they weren't real.  
  
Shaking himself, Harry threw back the covers and hauled himself into the bathroom for a shower. When he returned to the dormitory, toweling dry his long tousled hair, the other boys were still sound asleep. They could sleep through just about anything, which was both good and bad. On one hand, Harry never had to worry about waking them up with his nightmares. On the other, waking them up for anything was very hard work.  
  
Luckily the job of rousing them from Morpheus' nocturnal stranglehold was made much easier by the Weasley twins and their new gift to Ron. As a tribute to their fanaticism to Quidditch, they had developed a new alarm clock guaranteed to wake up their favorite brother, who, it was speculated, could sleep through the Quidditch World Cup played on his bed.  
  
Of course, given the twins it was a rather unique gift. Personally Harry wondered why Ron had kept it, and not given it to some unsuspecting soul. But it did the tedious job of waking him up every morning, which was always a struggle. It also succeeded in waking up the others, more due to Ron's cursing and the ruckus he caused in attempting to shut it up than the actual alarm.  
  
Just as Harry was buttoning up his shirt, Ron's new alarm went off at precisely 7:30 am. A mini-Bludger about the size of a Snitch rose with the whistle, and the small Beater bat whacked it at the lump of covers on the bed. There followed a series of muffled shouts and curses punctuated by solid thumps.  
  
Harry watched with amusement as his best friend staggered out of bed, only to be smacked in the stomach by the mini-Bludger and fall back winded. Moaning and cursing, he stood again, ducked, then grabbed the bat and smashed the Bludger back into the case. Dropping the bat, he doubled over, clutching at his stomach and letting out a pain-filled rant that questioned the Bludger's material consistency and parental arrangements.  
  
Dean poked his head out from his hangings and muttered sleepily, "Ron, isn't it time you learned some new curses to wake us up by?" Seamus laughed a little drunkenly as he rubbed his eyes. "Yeah mate, we've heard your whole litany by now. Get your girlfriend to teach you some new vocabulary." Neville snorted. "That'll be the day. Hermione Granger, cussing like a sailor while instructing on the proper conjugation of the word fu-"  
  
Ron cut him off with a glare. "Bugger off." Grumpily he grabbed his towel and dressing robe as he headed for the shower, ignoring the snickers following him. His mood didn't improve when he remembered they had Potions first off this morning. Fortunately his mood lightened considerable when he saw Hermione waiting for him in the Common Room to head down for breakfast. A mental image of her cursing like a true Weasley made him snicker, but then a blush rose as he remembered what else she could do with that mouth.  
  
Her grin made it all too clear that she could tell what he was thinking, and with a quick kiss laced her arm through his. "Harry and Ginny are already went down, so let's head for breakfast before they eat it all." Ron snorted, but reflected that Harry probably could put away most of it by himself. Damn his metabolism. Breakfast was still there when they arrived though, and the four friends chatted amicably.  
  
All too soon the three sixth years were descending to the dungeons for another year of Potions with the Slytherins. It was still a bit early and the classroom wasn't unlocked yet, so they gathered outside with their housemates and listen to Parvati and Lavender gossip in low tones that they all heard anyway. Apparently Parvati had some Ravenclaw gossip from her sister Padma that Lavender hadn't spread around the school yet, and judging by their giggles it was quite juicy.  
  
Unfortunately Draco Malfoy, as per tradition, had to start his favorite game of taunting the trio, Crabbe and Goyle backing him up but not adding anything to the scenery. "Well, if it isn't the famous Hogwarts ménage de trio. How are your two boys toys treating you, Mudblood? Like the filth you are?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Truthfully, I'm unable to comprehend why the fact that you are a "pureblood" makes you superior to others in anything other than the astonishing ability to inbreed."  
  
Harry hid his smirk behind his hand, but Ron wasn't going to take any insult without getting in his own shot. "You would know about filth, Malfoy. After all, the apple never falls far from the tree, or in this case, crawls from the slime pit." Malfoy rounded on him with a scowl. "Protecting your Mudblood girlfriend? Just our luck boys, a next generation of bushy haired Weasleys is probably being bred right here in Hogwarts. Tell me, does she put out for you every night, or do you have to beg?"  
  
Ron stepped forward with a cold glare. "Shut your mouth, before I seal it for you." Malfoy sneered up at him and flipped a blond hair out of his face. "Or what, Weasley? You can't do anything to me. Even if you tried, your slut of a girlfriend would stop you." Ron growled low in his throat and advanced on the smaller teen, but Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward with ham-like fists raised. Hermione stood next to Ron, not even trying to restrain him as her hand closed on her wand.  
  
For several seconds the tableau froze, the onlookers silently cheering while keeping an eye out for Snape. Harry leaned casually against the wall, staying out of it as his eyes flicked back and forth while analyzing Ron's movements, and guessed what was going to happen next. He wasn't disappointed.  
  
In a flash of movement both Ron and Hermione drew their wands and shouted separate spells before Malfoy's wand could even clear his robes. With a little light show and three pops of air, suddenly the three Slytherins were gone. In their place were two bowling pins and a dazed penguin.  
  
Smiling viciously, Hermione cast a little hex on the penguin which caused it to squat down and curl up into a ball, tucking in its flippers. Ron stepped forward and gave it a good solid kick, right at the two pins. With a crash the pins went flying and clattered against the walls, but the penguin didn't stop. It kept rolling down the corridor to the end and bounced down a long flight of stairs.  
  
The sixth years were silent until the last of the thuds echoed and died, then Harry started laughing quietly. It quickly progressed to full-on hysterics which the Gryffindors all joined in on whole-heartedly, making the dungeons ring. "That was brilliant!" Seamus choked out with tears streaming down his face, and Dean nodded so hard that, already off-balanced by his guffaws, he nearly fell over. "Malfoy, the Incredible Bowling Penguin! Classic!" Neville sniggered, "I like the two pin heads over there."  
  
Ron grinned sheepishly as he blushed at the attention. He murmured in Hermione's ear. "That was a nice touch," and gave her a quick kiss. She smiled back at him. "Just curious, but why a penguin? I would think you would want the Amazing Bouncing Ferret, part deux." He shrugged. "First thing that popped into my head. No particular reason." He looked around at his chortling classmates, the two abandoned pins and the Slytherins trying to hide their amused grins behind not-quite-convincing scowls. Hermione giggled, and soon they were both shaking with paroxysms of laughter.  
  
Showing a knack for timing, Snape chose that moment to appear, stalking down the corridor with his robes billowing out impressively around him. His dark eyes narrowed as he took in the scene and demanded icily, "What is going on here?" The laughter faded, and everyone stood glancing around at each other not wanting to answer and draw the professor's wrath on themselves. "Well?"  
  
The awkward silence was broken by an indignant squawk of fury at the end of the corridor, and they all turned to see a very disgruntled penguin waddling towards them as fast as his flippered feet could go, wings stretched out to either side. Ron bit his lip to try and stop his smile, but when the penguin squawked again he quickly fell victim to a fit of sniggers.  
  
Harry looked over at the Potions Master just in time to see him lose his fight against a small smile. Snape struggled to keep his voice notably stern as he asked, "Who is this, and what happened?" Pansy Parkinson managed a straight face as she said, "That's Draco, sir, and the two pins in the corner are Crabbe and Goyle." Dean gathered his courage and spoke up, "We were just being enlightened on the fine points of penguin bowling sir."  
  
Smothered snickers erupted from the Gryffindors, and Snape blinked once in disbelief. Hiding his growing amusement behind his trademark scowl, he pulled his wand and with a wave the three male Slytherins popped back into their proper, if rather disheveled and beaten, human forms. Malfoy painfully got to his feet, wincing as he rubbed a hand over his bum and glared at Ron and Hermione. "Professor, these two attacked me unprovoked . . ."  
  
Hermione interrupted him coldly, "Malfoy, quit lying and grow up." Ron added, "Next time, don't start something you can't finish. Never insult Hermione or my family again." He twirled his wand expertly through his fingers before pocketing it, winking at his girlfriend.  
  
Snape sighed inwardly. What a way to start off this day. "Mr. Weasley, thirty points from Gryffindor for threatening a student and using magic in the corridors. Mr. Malfoy, thirty points from Slytherin for provoking an attack and showing appallingly bad judgment." As he swept past them all to unlock the doors, he added, "And detention, for letting a Gryffindor get the better of you." He stalked towards his desk, ignoring the curious murmurs and incensed fuming from the students. As they settled at their worktables, he began his lecture. "Today you'll begin the first stages of a Clarity Potion . . ."  
  
Five minor accidents, twenty points and a melted cauldron later, the Gryffindors exited the dungeons to escape their idea of hell on earth. Ron groaned as they climbed the stairs. "We've Divination next. Only ten minutes to make it to the top of the North Tower. That's at the other end of the school." He looked hopefully at Harry. "Any way we could get up there without having to run?"  
  
Hermione huffed a bit as Harry appeared thoughtful. "Honestly, you two should have taken something sensible, like Arithmancy. At least Professor Vector has the sense to keep the classroom accessible, and besides, she doesn't get her thrills by predicting which of her students is going to die." Ron grinned at her as he playfully protested, "But then how would we exercise our creative writing skills? She laps it up anyways. That was one of my best marks."  
  
Harry smiled as they bantered back and forth all the way up the stairs, well aware of their form of flirting. Eventually Hermione broke off and headed down a corridor while the boys continued their trek upwards. Harry glanced over at his friend with a challenging look. "Race you." He took off like a shot, taking three steps at a time with Ron hot on his heels.  
  
They bolted up several flights of stairs and were heading full tilt down the corridor towards the spiral staircase to the North Tower when someone unexpectedly stepped right into their path. Unable to stop, Ron slammed into the person and sent both to the floor in a tangle of limbs and panicked shouts. With his faster reflexes, Harry avoided the pile-up with a leap to the side, but his momentum carried him right into the stone wall. He hit hard and bounced off to land flat on his back with a painful thud and a whuff of air.  
  
Groaning, he hauled himself up as Ron knelt on the floor, wheezing with a hand to his chest, the impact having knocked the air out of him. Next to him, a furious Professor McGonagall was trying to disentangle her legs from her robes and scramble to her feet, so livid that she was sputtering incoherently. Harry grimaced and offered his hand to his Head of House. "I'm sorry Professor, we were trying to get to class on time. We just came from Potions, and Divination is next, but it's on the other side of the castle and . . ."  
  
She cut off his babbling with a stern glare; despite all his powers, she still had the ability to make him feel like a chastised first year. "Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, running in the corridors is not allowed. Ten points off for each of you." Ron sheepishly fetched her hat from across the corridor and handed it to her. "I'm terribly sorry Professor. Are you all right." McGonagall smoothed her hair back into a bun and replaced her hat. "I am unhurt. This time. Be more careful."  
  
They both nodded, and her stern look faded into something softer. "Mr. Weasley, it is just as well that we ran into each other. I need you to come with me immediately to the Headmaster's office. A situation has arisen, and it concerns you. Your sister is also being called." She glanced at Harry. "You had better come too, Mr. Potter. Where is Ms. Granger?" Ron furrowed his brow in confusion as he said, "Arithmancy class. Professor, what is this about?"  
  
McGonagall did not answer him as she led them back the same way they had come, albeit at a much slower pace, then made a side trip to Professor Vector's class and poked her head in. "Excuse me, but I need to speak with Ms. Granger. Gather your things; you won't be returning to class." Hermione joined them with her heavy bag slung over one arm, her expression confused as she took in Ron and Harry's presence. "Professor, what is this about?"  
  
"The Headmaster wishes to speak to all of you." She swept down the corridor, three befuddled teens trailing after her in silence. Harry tried to think of all possibilities for their summons. Were they in trouble for the penguin incident? No, Snape had taken care of that as a student infraction, and any further lectures could wait. Besides, with Ginny also being called in, an Order meeting was the most likely, but what had occurred that warranted an emergency council in the middle of the day? Had another attack occurred last night?  
  
His throat tightened as his nightmare flashed in his mind's eye, the horrifying sight of Sirius dying in his arms, but them he shook his head. That was just a nightmare, one of so many others he had every night. Just to make sure, he asked, "Professor, is Sirius all right?" His friends were startled out of their own thoughts to glance at him with concern, and McGonagall threw him a look over her shoulder.  
  
"As far as I know, Black is perfectly fine. He wasn't involved." "Involved in what?" Ron asked anxiously, and she sighed. "Not here. The walls have ears, and eyes," she added with a frown towards a particularly cheeky portrait pausing in his flirtations with a buxom young maiden to watch the three teens with interest. He leaned over to whisper something in her ear, and she blushed and giggled as she too eyed them. They continued the journey in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.  
  
They were passing by the Entrance Hall when the doors slammed open, and reflexively the teens all pulled their wands to train unflinchingly on the figure silhouetted in the bright sunshine without. Harry squinted against the glare to attempt to make out a face, and the figure stepped forward into the Hall. Now the light threw his features into illumination, and Harry froze at the sight, groaning "Oh gods," wand slipping from nerveless fingers.  
  
For suddenly, he remembered.  
  
He was the clone.  
  
The real Harry, disguised as Wraith, was currently walking towards them mechanically, steps echoing like gunshots off the silent stones, cradling the lifeless body of Sirius Black in his arms. For Harry, his nightmares were reality.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Following Professor McGonagall's interruption, Albus Dumbledore led the rest of the Order from their chamber to the Hospital Wing along the back routes, careful of all the spying eyes. Once inside the infirmary, they locked the doors and hurried towards the screens at the far end. Pomfrey removed them, and Dumbledore drew up short, an impossibly sad look weighing his features down as the Order members drew in sharp breaths simultaneously. Remus gasped and shoved past him roughly to kneel beside the bed.  
  
Sirius lay there, pale and unmoving, a marked contrast to his normal bundle of energy. Wraith stood above him, clenching his fists as he struggled to contain some unimaginable mix of emotions. Harry sat on the bed at his godfather's feet, nearly doubled over with his face buried in his hands. Ron and Hermione, both red-eyed and teary, hovered uncertainly between the two as if unsure of what to do.  
  
Dumbledore murmured, "Is he . . ." Reluctantly Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Yes. He's dead. I'm sorry." Remus was blinking rapidly, trying to stop the tears as his face contorted in anguish, then with a howling scream he picked up a chair and hurled it with a lycanthrope's enhanced strength into the opposite wall, where it shattered on impact. Whirling, he punched blindly at the stones behind him hard enough that he seemed to be attempting to tear it down with his bare hands. There were distinct cracks as bones broke in both his hands.  
  
As suddenly as it started, the storm passed and Remus slumped against the wall, panting as all strength left him. Slowly he sank down to the floor, tears running down his weary features as his shoulders shook. The Order had watched the last Marauder helplessly, but now Harry got up and knelt beside him. He wrapped his arms around him, and together they grieved while comforting the other, mourning Sirius.  
  
Arthur wiped tears from his eyes and said, "I think we all need to know what happened last night." Ron started at his father's voice and turned to find his entire family gathered behind him. He walked over to join them in a Weasley hug, deriving comfort from their combined strengths. Molly especially hugged her children tight to her, as if trying to defeat the reality that she could lose them to this war by her love alone.  
  
George heard a snuffling sound behind him, and turned from his mother to see Tori Black in another bed, gray faced and bandaged. His parents had informed him briefly of what had happened, and he felt a rush of gratitude towards his Auror trainer for protecting them. He walked over and sat by her bed, giving Tori a brief side arm hug just so he could see the shaky smile she projected at him, assuring him that she would be fine.  
  
Slowly the Order settled down on beds and chairs in the Hospital Wing, and the events of last night were reported by Arthur, Tori, Dumbledore, and Professor Figg. The Headmaster swallowed hard once they were finished with the recount. "Casualty report. Seven Aurors were killed, including Spike Williams." Tori started and shot up from her bed, eyes wide and panicked as she exclaimed, "Spike is dead?"  
  
Arabella nodded sadly, "Some demons overwhelmed him." Tori moaned as she fell back onto the bed, tears shining in her eyes. George was sitting next to her and held her hand comfortingly, rubbing his fingers in small circles over hers. Dumbledore looked over at Harry and Remus, then up at Wraith. "How did Sirius die?" Wraith was staring off into space, features arranged in a blank mask under all the grime. "I don't know," was the blank reply, and mutters rippled through the Order.  
  
"Maybe you should start at the beginning," Snape suggested, for once without a trace of his usual ire. Wraith swallowed hard. "We were at my house, picking up the new Detection Parchments before heading out when the alarms went off. I let Sirius take the Shadow while I took a portal to the Minister's residence. We were trying to give them time to escape." Molly sniffed a bit, and Arthur put his arm around her comfortingly.  
  
Wraith continued, "The demons had weapons, flamethrowers and grenades with their regular stuff. I was fighting on the ground while Sirius attacked from the air, driving them back from the house. Reinforcements arrived, and when I looked up, Sirius . . . he was unconscious on the bike. It was going to crash. A levitation spell caught the bike, but Sirius fell off. I caught him, but . . ." he gritted his teeth, "Those damn demons. When I reached him, he wasn't breathing. I . . . I tried everything I could . . . but . . . I couldn't . . . I couldn't save him . . . he died . . . right in my arms . . . I failed him . . ." His voice was catching as the emotionless mask began to crumble, but he fought against it, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.  
  
Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I don't understand it. There's not a scratch on him." Indeed everyone else who had come back was covered with mud and minor wounds, but Sirius by comparison was perfectly fine and healthy, except for the obvious fact that he was dead. "The only logical explanation would be the Killing Curse or poison, but that's impossible."  
  
Wraith barely heard her, staring down at his hands and trying to get them to stop shaking. The only problem was that he was having trouble feeling them, as if some of the signals were cut from his brain. Hermione noticed something, and gingerly she took one hand in hers, examining his palm closely. "Where did you get these?" She traced a finger over raised pustules that turned nasty shades of red and yellow with a tinge of green under the dark blood and dirt.  
  
He looked blankly at her, then again at his hands, and suddenly his mind snapped into fast forward. Grabbing the arm . . . skin reaction . . . poison . . . burning corpses . . . paralytic . . . frozen muscles . . . ceased respiration . . . heart attack. He spun to the nurse. "What about an inhaled poison?" She considered it for a moment and nodded. "In a fairly high dosage, like an entire vaporized cauldron full."  
  
Wraith turned away, breathing hard as he gritted, "Or smoke from a pile of burning bodies." He clenched his fists so tight that his nails drew blood and pus where they punctured the skin, but he couldn't feel it. "It's my fault." Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "What?" He shoved away violently, tears flowing unnoticed down his cheeks cutting clean trails through the grime. "It's my fault!" he shouted.  
  
"I was the one fighting fire with fire. I'm the one who turned their weapons against them. Their skin is poisoned, see?" He brandished his blistered hands wildly as he strode around, ranting. "I tore its arm off with my bare hands and used it to beat them to death. Their skin burned because I was setting them on fire, and Sirius inhaled the smoke . . . and . . . it's my fault," he finished in a broken whisper. He leaned against the cold stone, turning his face towards it to hide from their eyes and to cool his hot face.  
  
Ron approached him and laid a firm hand on his shoulder. "It was not your fault." Wraith's protests were silenced by a hand held up in front of his face. "No, it was not your fault. It was an accident. You had no way of knowing about the poison, and did not know that Sirius could have inhaled the smoke. You said so yourself, you did everything that you could to save him." Ron swallowed hard. "It was an accident. Don't you dare blame yourself for this."  
  
Wraith didn't want to listen, but the truthful words penetrated his consciousness and forced him to actually make note of them. He simply stared back at his friend helplessly, unable to convey his grief. At that point Harry walked up and picked up Wraith's hand, inspecting it for himself. An arched eyebrow asked a question, and Wraith shook his head miserably, indicating Sirius' body.  
  
Harry sighed, then pulled out a whistle to blow a few notes. A couple seconds later, Eredfire swept into the room to land on Harry's shoulder. He glanced at Wraith half sorrowfully, half reproachfully, then with a twitter he leaned down and dropped tears onto his hands. As they watched, the blood and pus disappeared as the poisoned blisters healed and sunk back into normal skin. Feeling returned, and he flexed his hands experimentally, then gave the phoenix a tiny smile. *Thank you.* The phoenix bowed.   
  
Dumbledore walked over to place a hand on both their shoulders. "I believe you should go clean yourself up, Wraith. Harry, you may stay here with Remus for the time being. Ron, your family needs you right now. Hermione, you may do as you see fit. All of you are excused from classes for the day." Slowly the crowded Hospital Wing cleared out, until Harry was left with Remus who, exhausted with grief, fell asleep on the chair next to Sirius.  
  
Harry watched them both with a million thoughts running through his head until Wraith came back in with damp hair but clean. "We need to talk," he said bluntly, and Wraith nodded solemnly. They settled face to face on the bed across from Sirius', glancing over at the still form on the bed. Harry exhaled heavily as he ran a hand over his face. "It was bad, wasn't it?"  
  
Wraith frowned with confusion. "You should know," he said meaningfully. Harry shook his head. "That's just it. I don't. Something's changed. We're not the same anymore." He sighed. "Ron spotted it last night, and this morning . . . well, after Azkaban, I knew exactly what had happened, almost as if I was there myself. I remembered." He waved a hand, trying to explain. "It's like, you're the original, I'm the copy that gets updated with all your memories. Yet that connection is failing. This morning, I thought it was all a nightmare. It faded almost immediately. It wasn't real, not until I saw you."  
  
He looked Wraith right in the eyes, helpless anguish and confusion written all over his face. "I forgot I was the clone." He shook his head. "I'm developing into a separate person from you. They're even treating us like separate people, different entities. And I can't help but think that this is bad."  
  
Wraith grimaced. "Do you think that it's from being used too much?" Harry shook his head. "And Eva never warned you about anything like this. I don't think it's natural. Maybe it's grief, maybe the influence of the demons. I don't know." Wraith scrubbed a hand over his face and asked, "What do you propose we do? Rejoin and not separate again unless absolutely necessary?"  
  
Harry sighed. "That's one idea. But I want to know what's causing this, and whether or not it will go away when we rejoin. What if we rejoin and now two separate personalities are in the same body? You'd have a very weird case of self-induced schizophrenia." He tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully, then shrugged. "We could continue as always and see what happens."  
  
He eyed his double. "Get rid of that disguise. Let's see if something is different physically." Wraith shrugged and his features melted and rearranged back into Harry. The Harrys raked their eyes over each other critically, trying to find an anomaly on the other. They summoned up a full length mirror and started comparing side by side.  
  
After a few minutes of this, the Weasley family walked back into the Hospital Wing to check on Harry, Hermione trailing behind with Ron. Molly froze in her tracks at the double image, and Fred and George promptly last their solemn faces to smiles that were vaguely reminiscent of their trademark grins. "Wicked! You've got a twin too!" The Harrys turned and said simultaneously, "Can you tell the difference?"  
  
Ginny shook her head, and Ron stepped closer to inspect them, circling around like a hawk. "No, I can't tell the difference between you two. Your hair is even the same. Why do you ask?" Harrys sighed, "There may be a slight problem, but no matter." They stepped towards each other until their bodies touched and fused, then with a little bit of movement like stirring melted wax in fog, only one Harry stood before them.  
  
Hermione asked, "What sort of problem?" Harry waved a hand distractedly. "On, just some communication failure. No big deal." His gaze returned to his godfather and his friend, and grief enveloped him again, reinforced by the double memories. He sat down heavily at the foot of the bed, and Molly walked over to give him a hug.  
  
Arthur touched the teen's shoulder and said quietly, "Harry, we can plan the funeral if you want. Dumbledore pulled up his will, and Sirius wanted to be buried on Hogwarts grounds. He'll be celebrated as a hero, largely thanks to you." Harry nodded silently, unable to speak through the lump in his throat. After a few minutes, he managed to croak, "Where will you be staying now?" Arthur and Molly traded looks as their children all shifted uneasily.  
  
"For now, at Hogwarts, even though it is a bit inconvenient. Later we'll rebuild our house, but probably not until after the war's over." Harry looked down at his folded hands, inwardly marveling at the hope these wonderful people still carried with them. "If you want," he began hesitantly, "you can stay at my house. It's empty at the moment, with plenty of space and lots of defenses." He swallowed. "It only seems fair, after you've given me a home for years, that I can try and return the favor."  
  
Molly swiped at a couple of stray tears. "Thank you sweetie, but it's hardly a favor. You're part of the family too, you know. Family looks after their own." He nodded and turned away.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Harry was never exactly sure how he made it through the next few days. Everything blurred together like an acid dream until Sirius' funeral, which stood out in stark relief, crystal clear. Particular flashes stood out in his mind, like snapshots:  
  
Remus in all black, face blank but tears rolling down his gray features.  
  
Dumbledore, up at the podium giving a solemn address as Harry sat in front, surrounded by the Order.  
  
A casket, festooned with flowers and cards, cleared off and slowly lowered into the soft dirt by the Whomping Willow.  
  
A handful of dirt, slipping from his fingers into the new grave and scattering over the top of the shining wood.  
  
Being hugged by Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, their tears wetting his dress robes.  
  
Supporting Remus back to his quarters past the statue of the humpbacked witch on the third floor.  
  
He didn't cry. He couldn't cry. He felt numb to it all, as if he were dispassionately watching a scene from outside his own body.  
  
Later Harry lay wide awake in bed, unable to sleep. Feeling restless, he shoved the covers aside and they slithered onto the floor unnoticed as he got up, pacing as his mind whirled without really thinking of anything. A soft snort from Neville's direction reminded him that others were asleep here, and quietly he crept down to the Common Room. The large room appeared foreign to his eyes under the combined lights of the dying embers in the hearth and pale starlight through the window.  
  
His eyes latched onto the window, and without thinking he strode over, flung it wide open, and climbed over the railing to scale the sides of the castle. Within minutes he lay atop the roof watching the stars, gravity wanting to tug him down the slanted surface but his body weight keeping him anchored. For a long time all was still.  
  
Abruptly a swoosh of air startled him from his stupor, and then Ginny Weasley was there, hovering in front of him on her broomstick. She met his gaze unflinchingly as she dismounted and carefully lay next to him. "I was in the Common Room when you came down. I couldn't sleep either." He gave a faint nod, but otherwise might as well have been an edifice of stone. She sighed. "Harry, you haven't spoken in three days. We're worried about you."  
  
A long silence followed, and Ginny propped herself up on an elbow to look at him. "We are friends, aren't we?" After a moment, he nodded and she continued, "Friends help friends when they're in trouble or hurt or whenever. They depend on each other. Your friends are your strength. Talk to me Harry. About anything. Please."  
  
Harry just lay there, staring up at the stars and not feeling. His eyes drifted among the constellations, vaguely picking out familiar shapes until he found Canis Major with the Dog Star shining bright, low on the horizon just above the trees. Sirius. Looking at him. Suddenly he blurted out, "What does it matter?" Ginny shot him a puzzled look. "What does it matter whether I talk or not? Whether I feel or not? I'm a soldier. I'm here for one reason only, and that is to finish this war once and for all. If I care, the people I care about get hurt."  
  
He rolled away, but she placed a hand on his elbow to prevent that. "Harry, it matters. You matter. As more than a soldier, or a tool. Everyone makes their own choices and we choose to care about you. I care about you, Harry. Not the Boy Who Lived, not the Phoenix Lord or the War Mage, just Harry." She gave a little smile in remembrance. "The boy I first saw asking how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters five years ago."  
  
Harry snorted bitterly. "You've always had a crush on me, on this image of me. Hard to forget the hero-worshipping little girl who watched me for five years, sticking her elbow in the butter." He grimaced. "You don't know me, what I've done." Ginny fumed, her eyes glinting with suppressed rage; he'd gone too far this time.  
  
"Damn it Harry! Get your ego-swelled head out of that whipped arse of yours and listen to me! I had a crush on you, yes. Emphasis on the 'had.' You're my friend and I value that friendship. Part of being friends is accepting each other for who they really are, good and bad. I know at least some of what you've done and are doing. And as for knowing you," she snorted, "I don't think anyone really knows you, least of all yourself. Now quit moping around like a whipped dog."  
  
He looked away from her furious expression, then asked sardonically, "Is this where I say, 'Great, that's one less stalker?'" He threw her a look over his shoulder and caught something in her face that made him feel suddenly reckless. "So if I leaned over and kissed you right now, you could honestly say that you wouldn't feel anything for me?" He stared intensely at her, as if waiting for her to crack under his emerald gaze.  
  
Ginny blushed furiously at that thought, but answered steadily, "No. I couldn't. I still have feelings for you, so don't tease me like that." She sat up and curled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "You know, I hate feeling this way. I love you but right now I really hate you. You're so difficult." She sighed. "Harry, I'm going to be honest with you. I'd like for us to be more than friends. But I know that it probably won't happen. No matter what, I want us to stay friends. You need a good friend more than a girlfriend, and I can accept that. Just don't turn me away."  
  
Well that didn't go the way she had planned, and judging by the surprised look on his face, he hadn't expected that either. She had given him the verbal equivalent to a slap on the face, and now it was his move. They lay in silence for a long time, watching as the Dog Star rose higher over the trees. Ginny saw a shooting star arch overhead, and smiled as she remembered an old fairy tale, and from there her thoughts drifted into a half-dozing state.  
  
Abruptly Harry spoke up. "There's one thing I really regret." She glanced over at his shadowy figure, and he continued, "I never had a chance to live with Sirius. To get to know him better, to hear more stories about the Marauders and my parents. To really have a family." A single tear sparkled in one eye, but with a blink it was gone. "Your family is great, and Remus can fill in somewhat, but it's not the same."  
  
Ginny just looked at him, and soon the tear was back, this time with friends. "It's not fair," he croaked, and she gathered him into a hug as he broke down, salt glistening on both their faces in the pale light of the stars.  
  
********************************************  
  
on a faraway plain, an ancient city just visible in the distance, an man argued heatedly with a woman. He was as animated and fiery as she was icily calm and stoic, which only amplified the agitation he expressed at her. "Damn you, don't you get it?!" he yelled with exasperation, running a hand through his black hair. "I'm not supposed to be here!"  
  
The woman gazed at him with implacable silver eyes. "Then where are you supposed to be?" "Back where I was! Back to my life! The place you just yanked me out of! I am supposed to be there, not here!" She responded gently, "Yet here you are." He glared at her with fire in his eyes, and his voice rose until he was bellowing, the words echoing through the empty space. "It wasn't my time, and you know it as well as I! Something's wrong! I'm not supposed to be dead!"  
  
Lady Death shrugged minutely. "Be that as it may, Sirius Black, you are. You may not want to be here, nor are you supposed to, but here you are nevertheless." He rounded on her, demanding with narrowed eyes, "Why?" She simply stated, "It is not my call."  
  
She turned away, but Sirius stepped around to block her. "What do you mean, it's not your call? You are Death, aren't you?" Lady Death nodded. "Yes, I am. But it is not my call, all the same." She walked around him and headed for the distant city, and he called back at her in frustration, "What the hell do you mean, it's not your call? Whose call is it then? Answer me!"  
  
Lady Death said it softly, yet Sirius heard every word clearly. "Ask your godson." He stared at her retreating back, baffled out of his mind. "Huh? Harry? What does he have to do with this? Do you get paid more for being cryptic?! Shit!" Only the silence of the realm of Death answered him. 


	24. Conversations and Confrontations

A/N: I am working hard on this to finish before June 21st. The chapters are hopefully getting longer to accommodate. Coffee helps. If you happen to see a girl sitting in the corner of a coffeehouse at all hours writing frantically in pencil on loose-leaf paper in a blue notebook and talking to herself, come say hello to psychochick. And buy her more coffee.  
  
Thanks to Raven Eades. She helps me when I'm stuck, inspires me to write faster, and overall encourages me to improve. These weekly writing sessions are really going to help both of us. I've worked out most of the twists and holes now, so these will be posted much faster.  
  
Sorry, had to answer some reviews. I can't answer all of them, but some just really stand out and demand an answer. X13: interesting ideas, but no. RoniKa: Of course it's not right. So what? Am I wacko? No, I am not an Animaniac, and I do not know anybody named Yacko or Dot. However, as my penname proves, I am psycho. There's a difference. Von: Your review was wonderful, thank you. Yes, the clone problem is disturbing, and it's really not supposed to happen. You'll find out what's going on as the story progresses. And you were the only one who noticed that the Black Shadow was destroyed. *sniff* I liked that bike, I want my own, and then I went and blew it up. Ah, my love for explosives outweighs my affection for the bike. Much sadness. Istalksiriusonweekends: Interesting S/N. Maybe you should switch to weekdays. Sirius will still be around a few more times, don't worry.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If you see something you don't recognize, it's a product of my twisted imagination and you can't use it. Now just read it, review it, and forego the lawyers.  
  
Chapter 24  
  
Voldemort was listening to the reports on the latest Muggle torture excursions when they were rudely interrupted by the door banging open. Instantly all wands were trained on the person who dared enter without permission, but the overly excited man who rushed in ignored them; in fact, he probably did not even register how close he was to being cursed into oblivion. Instead he scuttled forward and knelt at his Master's feet.  
  
"Forgive me for my intrusion, my Lord, but I have important news." Voldemort recognized the Mid-Eastern scholar who had been so diligently working on the translation of the journal for the last two weeks with his hand picked team of linguists. He nodded slowly, and the wands were holstered a bit reluctantly. "What is it?" he said softly, but with a trace of impatient menace just to remind the man of his place.  
  
"My Lord, we have made a breakthrough, and I believe that I have successfully translated the book." Voldemort's eyes widened as murmurs rippled through the few Death Eaters present, but he refused to let himself believe just yet. "How sure are you?" he hissed, and the man bravely met his eyes steadily as he answered confidently, "I stake my life on it." The Dark Lord smiled. "Good." He snapped once. "You are all dismissed." As the others present filed out, he turned to the scholar. "Show me."  
  
They walked down through the stone corridors, the scholar explaining in brief some of the finer points of the translation and the origins of the runes. He broke off only to mutter the password to the dungeon wall, which slid aside to allow them entrance to a linguist's laboratory, filled with tables and bookshelves overflowing with every single type of written language and material available. Understandably, the other linguists on the project had made themselves scarce, just in case something went wrong and their Master had to vent his anger.  
  
The scholar led Voldemort over to the center table, on which lay the original journal with its dazzling array of cryptic runes and a stack of parchment with the English translation. Voldemort flipped through it, making note of key passages and locations as red eyes skimmed quickly.  
  
Ever since his Hogwarts days, he had prided himself on his rapid reading abilities and easy comprehension, and the scholar in him was stirred to life again by this document. It had been a long while since he had last taken pleasure in actually reading something, and he felt a strange thrill.  
  
About halfway through he stopped, read carefully, then thumbed back a few pages to read the entire section in context. He looked up with a look of terrible excitement on his face. "I need a map," he breathed, and the scholar hurried to produce a current one and spread it out over another table. Voldemort's long finger drifted over the text then traced a route on the map while he mouthed to himself. The other man looked on anxiously, unconsciously wringing his hands.  
  
Several tense minutes later, the Dark Lord tapped on one small dot in the middle of the ocean, the caption denoting it as "Easter Island." "Here it is," he hissed with triumph, and the scholar nodded thoughtfully, all nervousness forgotten as his brain processed the information.  
  
"Easter Island. That makes sense, even more so than Stonehenge. It has a long and mysterious association with ancient magic, and not all of its secrets have been unraveled. The latest archeological reports gave indications of pre-Atlantean artifacts, so the journal . . ."  
  
Voldemort simply ignored him as the man babbled on, preferring to read the rest of the translation silently, memorizing the keys. Finally he straightened with determination, crimson eyes gleaming like hellfire in his excitement. "You have done well," he informed the scholar. "You will receive the reward you were promised immediately." The man bowed reverently. "You are most generous, Master." Voldemort handed him a small bag and stalked out, the joyous exclamations from the room cut off by the dungeon door.  
  
He headed up to the upper levels of his sanctum and stopped briefly at Lucius Malfoy's quarters. "I am going to claim my inheritance. You are responsible for controlling the demons and ensuring my plans are on schedule while I am away. Do not fail me." Lucius nodded once as was required of him, and Voldemort walked off, silently counting to see how long it would take the man to realize that he had no way of influencing the demons at all. A sudden shout behind him stopped the count at eleven, and he smirked evilly as he continued walking.  
  
On the roof of his fortress, he raised his snakelike face to the overcast sky, felling the biting wind cut right into his bones. He didn't care; the elements were nothing to one such as him. Calling on his steadily increasing power, he created a rift in front of him and forced it to become a portal, a link of dark fire between him and his destination.  
  
He felt the power surge through him, courtesy of his Master and the first talisman. He grinned with malevolent glee. How much his power would multiply when he returned with the second talisman, enabling the ritual? Nothing could stand in his way.  
  
When the portal stabilized, Voldemort stepped through, and with a whirl of black fire disappeared.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Harry stood at their worktable in Herbology after dinner, spreading manure at the base of their rhys plant carefully, adding in little caresses to the leaves to make the plant shiver and glow brighter with appreciation. Their project was doing well, even thriving under the care the group gave it every morning and night. Harry welcomed his times in the greenhouse, alone with something that didn't pity him or expect more than a little food, water and attention from him.  
  
The other groups weren't too happy though, and he looked around taking note of the withered sad-looking plants, their leaves drooping despondently with just the faintest of sheen left. Most still hadn't figured out what the plants really liked for nourishment, and the foliage was suffering along with their grade.  
  
He really shouldn't interfere with the other students' projects, but those plants, with their near-sentient and childlike qualities and presence, called to him in their misery. His Earth Elemental abilities made him especially sensitive to them. He hated to see them suffer.  
  
He concentrated back on his plant again, struggling with himself as he absently ran a finger over its stem. It shivered again and leaned into him, then almost seemed to look up at him pleadingly. Or maybe his lack of sleep lately was playing tricks on his mind.  
  
Sighing and glancing around to make sure he was alone, Harry walked around the tables, giving each rhys plant a little food and water as he ran his fingers lightly over the silver-green leaves. Each on responded to him, leaning closer as if yearning for more to ease their torment. He smiled a bit and briefly wished his life was so uncomplicated that a simple gesture of care and kindness could erase all his troubles.  
  
"A smile. Haven't seen one of those for a while." Harry jumped, startled at the voice that spoke up behind him. Spinning around he saw Remus Lupin leaning against a table by the doorway, watching him with arms crossed over his chest. He looked down and headed back to his table, and Remus quirked a small smile of his own. "You weren't supposed to be messing with those, I presume."  
  
Harry shook his head a bit. "No, but I couldn't stand to see them in pain. Not when I can help." He glanced up at his professor anxiously. "You won't report this to Professor Sprout, will you?"  
  
The werewolf chuckled. "No. I didn't come down here to catch you, and besides, no harm done." His eyes picked out the plants which all perked up and were all glowing a bit brighter. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you." Harry glanced at him warily as he pulled off his gloves. "About what?"  
  
Remus stepped forward and dropped his arms to regard the teen seriously. "How are you doing? I haven't really had a chance to talk to you since . . ." He trailed off, but they both knew what went unsaid.  
  
Harry shrugged and busied himself with packing up his bag. "I should be asking you that." Remus placed both hands on Harry's shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Harry, I'm worried about you. I know it hurts, but you can talk to me. Please." Harry looked away with a sigh, and Remus tightened his grip.  
  
"Please don't tell me you're still blaming yourself." The teen shook his head negatively. "No, I realized that Ron was right. It was an accident, and I did all I could. But . . ." He tensed his shoulders unconsciously, "Sometimes it doesn't feel like enough."  
  
Remus took one hand off to give him a side arm hug. "Harry, I know. When your parents died, I doubted myself for months, thinking that if I had just done a little bit more, noticed something earlier or said something different, I could have prevented it. When people you love get hurt, everything you do never seems like enough." He sighed. "Just remember, no matter how powerful you are, you're not omnipotent. You're not invincible. Even you cannot stop death."  
  
Harry idly brushed the leaf of a nearby rhys plant, watching its delighted reaction. "I know. But . . . I can't lose any of you. I don't want you or Hermione or any of the Weasleys to get hurt. I'm . . . I'm afraid that if I make a mistake, you all will suffer for it. I couldn't . . . I couldn't live with myself if . . ." He broke off, unable to continue around the lump in his throat. He seriously did not know whether or not he could go on if any of them died, and it scared him.  
  
Remus tugged sharply at his braid to get his attention. "Is that all it's going to take for Voldemort to beat you? To take out the ones you care about? Listen to me. Do you think we're stupid and helpless?" Harry shook his head, and the man continued, "We all take risks willingly. We know what we're getting into. Sirius knew what he was getting into, and did it anyway. This war is bloody, and we knew going in that sacrifices would be required of all of us. Any of us will fight to the death if absolutely needed. You can try to protect us, but we all make our own choices."  
  
He swallowed hard. "Freedom isn't free, and if the price of letting the world live in peace from Voldemort's ravages, of letting our children grow up without fear, if the price is my blood, I will gladly pay it. Mind you, I'd rather not, but still . . ." he gave a small rueful smile as he met Harry's green eyes to punctuate his statement. "Harry, stay your course. Fear is the source of depression and failure. You can end this war if you keep at it. Don't let Voldemort beat you by targeting the ones you love. Honor Sirius by caring enough to fight, as I will. As we all will."  
  
Harry closed his eyes briefly, then nodded with determination, and Remus gave his shoulder another squeeze before he let go with a sad grin. He looked around, hoping to change the subject. "Are you done here?" "Yeah, just as soon as I put away the manure." They cleaned up together and walked out in companionable silence, starting towards the castle. Remus cleared his throat. "Speaking of future generations, how's it going with Ron and Hermione?" Harry rolled his eyes even as a smile tugged at his mouth.  
  
"They're disgustingly happy and near perfect for each other. I wouldn't be surprised if they announced their engagement by the end of next year, which is just plain weird that I'm even thinking that, to tell the truth. The moment they start to use pet names, I'm going to hex them both. They flirt even when they're working on stuff for the Order now. And you heard about the penguin bowling incident. They love to bicker and pick fights just so they can make up. The fights are actually rather fun to watch, it's the aftermath I don't care to be present for."  
  
Remus laughed heartily, lines clearing from his face to make him look twenty years younger, then threw him a teasing side glance. "And what about you, Mr. Potter? Any prospects? I know that Ginny has had her eye on you for years. And historically the Potters have a thing for redheads."  
  
Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "Yeah, I know. And she's a good friend. We, uh, we actually talked about this the other night." Remus arched an eyebrow. "Really? What happened?" The War Mage actually blushed. "Well, she made it clear that she still likes me and uh," he coughed, "would like to be more, but is willing to stay friends."  
  
He sighed, "Basically, she claims that it's hard to be friends sometimes because nobody really knows me, not even myself. And maybe she's right. I'm second guessing myself, unsure of how to react anymore because I'm doubting my own abilities. The clone problem really has me worried, but I can't figure out what's causing it or how to fix it."  
  
Remus nodded thoughtfully. "So that's why you didn't join us the other night, huh? Just remember this very good piece of advice from Sun Tzu: 'Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles.' Be they battles of war or battles of the heart." His eyes twinkled in his serious face.  
  
Harry shook his head. "I need to concentrate on the war before I can even begin to tread that path. I swear, by my observations a girl's heart can be more difficult and treacherous than any demon battle." Remus laughed outright at that. "Sometimes that is amazingly true. But I think Ron has it a bit easier with Hermione. Logic over hormones, for now in any case."  
  
He sobered up a bit as he regarded the teen walking beside him. "Do you think you will ever find someone, like Ron found Hermione or James found Lily?" Harry shrugged as he watched his shoes, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't know. I guess . . . I've never really had a desire for that kind of a relationship. I mean, I notice the girls around me and appreciate their qualities, sometimes even an occasional dream, but I don't consider them as potential anything."  
  
Remus nudged him a bit. "Are you telling me you play for a different team?" Harry wrinkled his nose. "No. That's just not right. It's just . . . have you ever had the feeling that . . . maybe you were meant to stay single, to be alone?"  
  
Remus sighed and nodded. "Only all too well. Lycanthropy is hard to live with, and even harder on a partner. But sometimes I wish . . ." he trailed off wistfully, and for a few moments they walked in silence. Then he cleared his throat with a bit of difficulty. "The full moon is coming up."  
  
Harry nodded and the werewolf continued, "It's a blue moon, the second one this month. Even with Eva's improved potion, I still can't be around humans. It's very uncomfortable, and it gets pretty lonely out there." He threw a side glance at the teen, a bit apprehensive.  
  
"I was wondering . . . if you'd like . . . would you join me? I could show you some of the old paths that the Marauders found in the forest, and one of two new passageways that didn't make it onto the Map before it was confiscated." He unconsciously held his breath.  
  
Harry looked at him in surprise, noting the slightly vulnerable look in his eyes, and abruptly knew what it was that drove his father and friends to spend the extra time and study and risk to become illegal Animagi. He smiled a bit as he said, "I'd be honored, Remus."  
  
Clearly relieved and happily so, Remus clapped his shoulder as they reentered the castle. "Okay, Prongs Jr. We'll see what havoc we can wreck in one night to make your father and Sirius proud." Their quiet laughter echoed down the corridors.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Over the next week Harry settled back into the routine of Hogwarts classes, and mercifully there were no new attacks to interrupt his time. But there was also a noticeable absence of most of the normal Death Eater shenanigans, both in Britain and on the Continent, and frankly it was making the Order nervous.  
  
They were kept busy trying to uncover what was actually going on; the Dark forces were playing their cards a bit closer to their chests now. With Voldemort, no news is not necessarily good news. Harry had finally managed to give the Order all Detection Parchments, which should help the next time Voldemort's minions decided to show their masks.  
  
During Transfiguration class one morning, Harry was at his desk with both Ron and Hermione as they discussed their project. Professor McGonagall was walking around answering individual questions about their requirements for her project, and Harry tiredly listened simultaneously to her explaining to Lavender and Neville the difficulties of cacti transfiguration, and his friends debating a technical point of the Animagus transformation that he wasn't quite following with his slowed brain responses.  
  
He tried to stifle a yawn, but gave up at the attempt and yawned so hugely that he felt his jaw crack. He had been up all night with Remus during the full moon the night before, and together they had run deep into the forest, exploring with keen animal senses.  
  
He had debated on which form to assume the entire day previously, then finally went to ask Remus who had given surprisingly simple advice. "Let the form choose you. That's what regular Animagi do, for the animal reflects their inner qualities and personality. This time, just concentrate on this adventure and let it guide you."  
  
Harry smiled; they must have made quite a sight together, a silver wolf and a golden lion racing each other through the brambles. At first he had worried about the normal cat/dog animosity, but apparently the wolf accepted the lion as a friend, for Remus never complained. They had returned to the Hogwarts grounds at dawn, when the wolf became Remus once again. Harry had managed to snatch a couple hours of sleep before he had to dash off to Herbology.  
  
Exhausted, he watched as Hermione picked up the rubber rat from her desk and absently began tossing it back and forth in her hands as she continued her argument with Ron. The movement seemed to distract Ron however, for he was now following the toy with his eyes rather than pay attention to her words.  
  
Then quick as a Cornish pixie in second year DADA he snatched it form midair between her hands, and grinning began playing with it as she narrowed her eyes at him. She tried to grab it a couple times, but he was slightly faster than her and kept it just out of reach.  
  
Suddenly Ron faltered and Hermione grabbed the rubber toy back with a triumphant grin, smugly spinning it from hand to hand. Looking down, Harry realized she had distracted him by kicking off her shoe and running her foot up his calf. Shaking his head with extreme amusement, he sat back to watch their game of flirting, the project completely forgotten. This was much more entertaining.  
  
Hermione threw the rat at Ron, who barely caught it before it hit his nose. He toyed with it, then tossed it back at her and laughed when it smacked her shoulder before she caught it. They continued lobbing it back and forth playfully, and Harry was suddenly reminded of his knife throwing exhibition with his clone after Azkaban. The clone . . . he sighed as his mind drifted once again to that puzzle. They were one person in two bodies; it should have been impossible for one to separate from the other.  
  
The sigh caught Ron's attention, and he threw the rat at Harry unexpectedly. The war mage started when it bounced off his forehead and then fell into his hands, and he looked up rather startled to see his friends smiling at him, clearly proud that they had managed to distract him.  
  
He smiled back as he squeezed the rubber toy, then a stray thought suddenly occurred to him. "You know, we may have a problem with the project." Hermione immediately looked concerned, but he just smiled. "He's not getting his squeaker back." He squeezed it again for good measure. "Hope it was something important."  
  
Ron looked torn between a laugh of amusement and sadness at the reference, and the resulting expression was rather strange. Harry shrugged. "We could always turn him back to see." Hermione opened her mouth to voice her opinion on that, but Harry suddenly chucked the toy at Ron with a little smile still in place. The redhead didn't react fast enough, and it hit his head and bounced off, only to fly over the desk behind them to land on Professor McGonagall's hat.  
  
Immediately the three of them looked away and affected an air of innocence, which was disrupted by ill-concealed snorts of laughter. McGonagall, fortunately, didn't seem to notice as she continued her inspection around the room.  
  
However, some of the other students noticed and little whispers and snickers were traveling around the class in no time. She heard that and frowned with disapproval. "What is so amusing, may I ask?" Lavender giggled, "Your hat, Professor." Confused the professor reached a hand to her hat. "What is wrong with it?"  
  
Ron spoke up with his trademark grin. "Well Professor, we know that cats like rats, but do you really have to wear your food?" The entire class burst out laughing, and McGonagall pulled her hat off to find the rubber intruder staring back at her with glazed eyes, perched in the brim.  
  
Censoriously she plucked it off and replaced her hat as she marched back over to the Trio's table and set it down in front of Hermione. "Next time, be more careful with this or I'll have to confiscate it." They nodded at her stern order, then the bell rang and the class scrambled for their bags to head to lunch.  
  
Most of them were still laughing quietly as they settled down to lunch in the Great Hall. The three friends sat with Ginny, who arched an eyebrow at their guilty smiles. "Now what did you do?" she asked, and Hermione giggled. "Well, there was a little incident in Transfiguration."  
  
Harry picked up the story, "See, there was a cat in a hat . . ." "With a rat who's a prat," Dean added, and Seamus piped up, "And the cat had a spat . . ." "When she found the rat in her hat," Ron finished with a grin. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered, "Imagine that."  
  
They all looked at each other then burst out laughing, but Ginny just shook her head and sniggered, "You guys have problems." As they settled into their meal, Hermione told her the story about the rat mishap while Harry yawned into his plate of sandwiches.  
  
He took a few bites and realized that he'd rather be sleeping. He was so tired food just didn't sound appetizing, so he pushed his plate aside, laid his head on his arms and drifted off to sleep.  
  
He was shaken awake by Ron only ten minutes before their DADA lesson, and as he stretched he felt surprisingly refreshed by the catnap. Picking up his bag, he hurried from the Hall after his friend to where Hermione was waiting for them. She started fussing over him, but he fended her off protesting, "I'm fine! I just didn't get much sleep last night."  
  
Ron nodded as he placed an arm around her shoulders. "Remember, he went prowling with Remus last night. You should have seen him when he finally dragged himself in after sunrise. Leaves and twigs in his hair, big dark circles under his eyes, and the biggest stupid grin I've ever seen."  
  
He had to duck as Harry threw a mock punch at his head, then put up his hand in surrender with a smile. "Hey, easy mate. I'm just saying you looked like you had a good time." Harry smiled back, "Yeah, it was fun." Ron's eyes glazed over slightly as a scheme ran through his head.  
  
"Ginny's getting Animagus lessons, you know, and Hermione is the smartest thing on two legs. Two very nice looking legs, too," he added and his girlfriend blushed. Harry pretended to gag. "Maybe we should all try to be Animagi, then we can do stuff like that. You know, keep up the Marauder tradition . . ."  
  
Hermione swatted his arm. "Ron! It's illegal, not to mention dangerous. They wouldn't allow it. Besides, it normally takes months or years to get it right. By the time we get it we'll be out of Hogwarts, and we'll have to register ourselves, and . . ." By now they were in the corridor leading to the DADA classroom, where the last few sixth year stragglers were rushing so as not to be late. They would make it just before the bell, and their steps sped up even as she continued pointing out the flaws in his idea.  
  
Right in the middle of her lecture, a sharp pain lanced through Harry' scar suddenly, and caught off guard he stopped walking and pressed a hand to his forehead. It was worsening in waves, and he bit back a yell as he wavered dizzily, his vision blurring a bit. Ahead of him, Ron noticed that Harry wasn't with them and turned, and his eyes widened when he realized what the problem was.  
  
He hurried over, inquiring, "Harry?" but the black haired teen couldn't hear him anymore. The scene swam and faded before his eyes as he fought against the pain, but then an especially agonizing stab pierced right through his brain, and he collapsed into blackness.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Harry materialized into a place of near pure darkness, and with a single glance at the ground he groaned. He was in the Dream Stand. Frantically he tried to recall what he had done to escape last time, but he didn't know how exactly he had called up that light. He spun, eyes trying to pierce the gloom as he call, "I know you're there. Quit hiding." With surprising rapidity, Voldemort stepped out in front of him, glaring with those evil red eyes.  
  
Harry stomped down on his nervousness at the lack of preliminaries; clearly the Dark Lord wasn't in a good mood. For a long time the two mortal enemies glared at each other, the tension as palatable as the surface rippling beneath their feet. Finally Voldemort broke the silence with an icy hiss. "Where is it?"  
  
"Where's what?" Harry replied, even though he had a fairly good idea. The creature before him literally snarled at him, showing off rotted pointy teeth. "The talisman, you insolent brat. I know you know."  
  
The teen War Mage thought quickly, trying to plot the best course of action for this situation. Distract him. He taunted, "Lost track of it, have you? Too bad. Maybe you should put new locks on your doors."  
  
Voldemort's eyes flamed with hatred. "You have the second one, I know it. Hand it over quietly and you will live another day. Refuse, and I will still find it, after walking over the bodies of all your friends. Sirius Black was only the first."  
  
Harry scowled darkly. "Don't think so." He circled warily away from his enemy. "Tell me, did you have a good time getting through the obstacles? I found them rather easy." The long fingered white hands clenched into fists, and he noticed with some satisfaction the dark puncture wounds from multiple snakebites. Good, the snakes had remembered his order and obeyed. Too bad they couldn't finish him off.  
  
Voldemort's voice was soft and deadly when he spoke. "Ten days. Ten days of mental and physical suffering, of frustration and setbacks, of exhaustion and pain. Only to find that my prize had been stolen. And you dare taunt me?"  
  
With a flick several curses flew straight at Harry, and he dove and rolled to avoid them. "Where is the talisman?" The teen jumped again, dodging more wandless curses and spells, and uneasily he saw how much his power had grown from last time.  
  
"Where is it?!" Voldemort roared, and abruptly the floor rippled violently, extended a long black tendril and cracked it like a whip. Harry was desperately trying to avoid the whip and the spells, so he didn't see the wall that grew at his back until he smashed into it.  
  
Instantly the whip caught him across the ribs, and he groaned as he felt several crack and give way painfully. The groans turned to stifled screams as a powerful Cruciatus hit him, wracking his entire body with pain. Gritting his teeth, Harry slammed up mental blocks on the pain and got back to his feet, fists clenched. Voldemort was starting to sound like a broken record when he demanded, "Where is it?!" Harry shot back, "Blown to hell. Why don't you go look for it?"  
  
The Dark Lord narrowed his eyes venomously. "Nice try. But you still have it. Now where is it?" The whip flashed out of nowhere, catching around Harry's legs and flipping him into the air upside down. He gasped as rivulets of icy cold ran through his body, emanating from the black band encircling his ankles.  
  
He shuddered violently, trying to fight back, but as the cold reached his chest he felt his heart slowing, blood moving more and more sluggishly. It felt like the band was wrapped around his chest now, freezing him and suffocating him slowly, painfully. His vision flickered, and he though he saw a warm light, promising heat and air, so he reached for it.  
  
Just before his fingers could touch, the band released and Harry felt himself falling, barely registering before he slammed into the black surface. He landed hard on his left shoulder, and with a distant crack that entire side erupted with fiery pain.  
  
He bit his lip to keep from crying out and forced himself not to feel it even as sharp points of splintered bone dug into his skin from underneath. Blearily he saw Voldemort raise his hand and incant, "Crucio Maximus!"  
  
**************************************************************  
  
As Harry collapsed in the corridor, Ron closed the last few steps at a run and caught him before he hit the ground. Trying to reign in his panic, he yelled back at Hermione, "Get Professor Lupin! Hurry!" Luckily the door was open and the entire class heard, including the professor, and within seconds they all crowded into the corridor. Remus pushed through and knelt beside the two boys. "What happened?" he asked urgently.  
  
Ron cradled Harry's head in his lap, shaking him gently and scared out of his wits by the dull glaze over the open green eyes. "Right before we got to the door, I saw that Harry had fallen behind. His scar was hurting, he had his hand pressed to it, then he just fell."  
  
The teen's blue eyes looked up at the lycanthrope pleadingly. "What's wrong with him?" Remus checked Harry's pulse and frowned as he shook his head. "His heart's racing. It shouldn't be if he's unconscious. What the . . ."  
  
Just then Harry jerked in Ron's arms and a loud crack echoed down the corridor. He twitched again, then let out a bitten-off yell as he started spasming, writhing on the floor convulsively. Ron tried to hold him still with Hermione's help to keep him from hurting himself as the other students back away in trepidation, muttering among themselves. As suddenly as it started the fit passed, and Harry lay tensely still with unfocused eyes wide open, breathing hard.  
  
Remus turned to the students and ordered sharply, "Someone go fetch Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster! Oh, and Madame Pomfrey too! Now!" Immediately three people took off running down the corridor. Hermione knelt by Ron's side, her hand at Harry's neck checking his pulse in alarm.  
  
"His pulse is getting weaker," she reported apprehensively, and Ron could feel it as his friend's breathing slowed and his skin grew cold. He yelled frantically, "Harry! Listen to me, Harry, fight it! C'mon, wake up!"  
  
Another loud crack followed by several pops made them jump, and Harry went limp at his left arm and shoulder torqued around sickeningly, several bones clearly broken and jutting against the skin in places. Ron was horrified as he watched it happen literally in front of his nose for no apparent reason, and Hermione turned wide alarmed eyes to Remus and whispered, "What's happening to him?" Remus could only shake his head helplessly. "I've never seen something like this before."  
  
A flurry of robes announced the arrivals of the three students and two professors, followed closely by the nurse. Dumbledore's eyes went wide when he saw the scene, and Remus started, "Albus, he . . ." but was cut off when Harry jerked violently and began to scream.  
  
Ron could no longer hold onto him as he thrashed wildly, hoarse agonized screams torn from his lips echoing down the corridor like a banshee. The students shrank back to the walls in terror as the professors watched wide- eyed and helpless. Harry's nose began to bleed, then with an extra shriek his infamous scar lanced over with a rip to ooze crimson.  
  
As the seizure continued, little cuts appeared all over his skin and blood was soon smeared all over his body. His back arched up painfully, then abruptly he collapsed back again, panting as small aftershocks wracked him. Hermione immediately bent back over him, checking his pulse again and ignoring the blood now streaking her hands.  
  
She didn't like what she found. "No! Harry, don't you dare! Wake up!" she yelled at him, and Ron touched his face. "He's going cold," he reported grimly, and she tried rubbing at his chest. "He's fading." Madame Pomfrey shoved forward to kneel by them, waving her wand over his prone body.  
  
The group was silent as they watched and prayed, unsure of what was going on. Harry just lay there with his eyes open and fixed, unaware of his surroundings. The nurse placed a hand at his neck, on his chest then in front of his mouth. She looked up with panic at the Headmaster. "Albus, he's not breathing."  
  
**************************************************************  
  
In the Dream Stand, Voldemort held Harry under the modified Cruciatus for several long minutes, the teen unable to focus past the pain long enough to stop it. He could fee every single cell of his body wracked with fire and ice, could feel the blood dripping down his face, the skin tearing itself apart from the energy coursing through him to leak out more blood. His body wasn't under his control any longer, and that helpless feeling was somehow worse than the pain. He was screaming so loud he wouldn't be surprised if they had heard it several dimensions away.  
  
When the curse finally lifted he lay there panting, choking on the copper taste of blood in his mouth. He rolled over weakly and spit it out, swiping at the liquid flowing into his eyes with a shaking hand. His whole body shook from the aftereffects, nerves misfiring as connections tried to reestablish their normal routes after such a disruption.  
  
Suddenly he was being pulled backwards by his legs, and the black floor rippled again to lash him tightly down by his wrists and ankles. Quick as a flash he lay helpless on the strange black surface, laid out like a pagan sacrifice.  
  
Harry struggled weakly, but the effort was futile for the manacles only tightened until he couldn't move an inch, and he suppressed a shiver. Not only from the ice once again creeping through his body, but being tied up always reminded him of that night in the graveyard, and more distantly of an incident with Dudley and Piers. He couldn't have been more than five at the time . . .  
  
A sharp slap on the face made him aware of Voldemort's presence, and he cracked open his eyes to see that nightmare face hovering uncomfortable close above him. "Harry Potter," the Dark Lord hissed, and Harry gagged at the stench of decay.  
  
"You don't like being restrained, do you? I could continue torturing you here until your mind breaks. And your friends back at Hogwarts will only be able to watch helplessly, unknowing." He gripped the boy's chin with one long-fingered hand and stared straight into his eyes.  
  
"Where is the talisman? Tell me and I will release you." Harry struggled for breath and managed to whisper, "No." The hand tightened until he was sure his jaw would break. "You know what my followers did to the Longbottoms, right after that Halloween. Driven insane until they cannot even recognize themselves, let alone their offspring. Would you like that to happen to you? While their pathetically inept son looked on? Tell me and spare him and yourself. Where is it?"  
  
Harry could barely hear him through the roaring of ice in his ears, and could have sworn that in his veins flowed not blood, but crystallized ice water. His whole body throbbed with pain and bitter cold; he couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't even think any more. His body was shutting down, spots danced in front of his eyes, and then he saw that light again, so warm and promising and oh so close now.  
  
He smiled vaguely, his lips and teeth coated with blood, and murmured, "If you want it, come and get it." Ignoring his enemy crouching over him, he reached out for that light, and it came and enveloped him soothingly.  
  
He closed his eyes, felt the bonds fall away, heard Voldemort roar with fury greater than a star explosion, then he was gone, flying away in that light.  
  
*******************  
  
Harry felt at peace, warm and comfortable, away from everything that had ever troubled him. He breathed in a great sigh of relief, happy he could breathe again so freely. Curious, he opened his eyes to find himself on a grassy plain, a city in the distance.  
  
He squinted; was that the city of the Guardians? No, it couldn't be. It was similar yet subtly different, and the air didn't have the same feel of magic to it, the infusion of countless millennia of powerful beings. Where was he then?  
  
He drew in another wonderfully clean gulp of oxygen and decided her didn't much care. But something still felt wrong, something he couldn't put his finger on. Suddenly he jumped when a very familiar voice yelled out behind him, "Harry?!" He spun, disbelieving, and gaped at the impossible sight before his eyes. Now he know what was so very wrong. "Sirius?!" he breathed incredulously.  
  
His eyes were fixed on the man standing not ten feet from him, a completely impossible apparition. Yet there he was in the flesh, just like the last time Harry had seen him alive, before that night. Then his gaze was drawn to the man's two companions, and he swallowed hard. "Mum? Dad?"  
  
They were staring back at him, conflicting emotions darting across their faces, then Lily settled on an amazed smile filled with motherly pride. "Harry!" She held her arms out to him, open ready to catch him up in a tremendous hug of acceptance. James beamed at him with one arm wrapped around his wife's waist and the other beckoning him closer.  
  
A storm of emotions raged through Harry, but at the sight of his parents smiling at him, relief swept through him and he walked towards them, ready to find refuge in their embrace.  
  
Yet he had only taken one step when abruptly the scene faded to blackness, and he was floating through nothingness. "No!" he yelled out frantically, "NO!" He fought against it, searching for a way out of this non-place.  
  
He hated it; he'd even go back to the Dream Stand rather than remain. Concentrating, he could hear a very faint voice calling something, maybe his name. unsure of who it was, he nevertheless followed the sound until the blackness around him changed from nothingness to consciousness. Senses returned in a rush.  
  
His legs lay on cold stone, but the upper part of him was cradled by two warm bodies. He identified the voice: Ron, yelling desperately at him and shaking his unhurt shoulder. Hermione was on the other side, speaking softly as he hand ran over his face wiping up the blood.  
  
His eyes were open but unfocused, and felt very dry and gritty. He blinked twice, trying to focus, and Ron stopped his actions. "Harry, you there?" he asked softly, a sharp contrast to his yelling but with the same concern shading his voice.  
  
Harry swallowed and tried to speak, but abruptly realized he had just swallowed a mouthful of blood. He coughed, choking, and tears ran from his eyes. People crowded around him, pressing closer and asking multitudes of questions in gibbering voices.  
  
It was overwhelming: suddenly violently claustrophobic, he jerked away from restraining hands and shoved to his feet, and amidst startled babbling all around him, bolted down the corridor, pushing past anything in his way. A suit of armor clattered down behind him, but he didn't notice.  
  
He had no clear concept of where he was; he was just acting instinctively, letting his feet carry him away, far away from that corridor and those people. Spotting a familiar door, he stumbled through into the boys' lavatory. Dazedly he went into the nearest stall, fell to his knees and proceeded to wring his guts dry into the bowl, vaguely noticing the red blood mixing with the pitiful remains of his lunch.  
  
A slamming noise echoed through his ears to herald the arrival of several onlookers, probably his friends and the professors, and Harry retched again as a fresh bout of nausea claimed his attention. Hermione wetted a towel and pressed it to the back of his neck while she rubbed his back in soothing circles, and gradually the dry heaves faded.  
  
Ron silently offered him a glass of water, and Harry rinsed out his mouth before easing his throat with the cool water. He must have screamed it bloody, and bile didn't help. He was still too shaken to get his mental blocks up against the pain.  
  
He leaned back against the wooden wall with exhaustion, but hissed as his shoulder came in contact with the hard unforgiving surface. Wincing, he got to his feet and stumbled over to the sink, using his one good hand to splash water on his face, which dripped off red onto the white porcelain. He did it a few more times until the water stayed clear.  
  
Dumbledore approached him warily. "Harry, are you all right?" The teen War Mage shook his head wearily as he leaned on the sink, refusing to look into the mirror. "What happened?" He cleared his throat painfully and croaked, "Voldemort . . . Dream Stand . . . talisman . . . he knows."  
  
He rubbed a hand over his eyes as the people present gasped a bit. "Voldemort tried to get the talisman, that's why he's been laying low for the past week or so. He's furious that I'd beaten him to it. He wants it, and now he knows that I still have it." He started to sigh, but it turned into a groan as his ribs and shoulder protested vehemently.  
  
He wavered, but Ron and Hermione were right there to support him. "Thanks," he mumbled. Madame Pomfrey stepped forward, took one good look at him and commanded, "Hospital Wing, Mr. Potter." He simply nodded, causing his head to throb mercilessly, and allowed his friends to help him.  
  
As they walked together through the corridors, Ron kept stealing side glances at Harry, who finally just said, "What?" The redhead seemed to steel himself, then asked, "Harry, what did he do to you? From what we saw, it wasn't pretty." Harry silently agreed and just leaned on him a bit more, thankful for his strength and friendship. Hermione had her arm around his waist to help him walk, and her concern for him eased a bit of the pain still wracking him. She looked up to meet his eyes with her own frightened ones.  
  
"Harry, I don't know . . . what all happened back there, but . . ." she sniffed, "we were afraid we were going to lose you. It was horrible." She tightened her arm briefly in a hug, as if to reassure herself that he was there.  
  
"At one point . . . you stopped breathing, and you were so cold . . . we thought you were dead." Hermione sniffed, but held in her tears by sheer willpower. Harry raised his head, eyes glazed over and haunted. He whispered so softly that they both had to strain to hear him, but what he said chilled them to their bones.  
  
"I . . . I think I was." 


	25. A Butterbeer Interlude

A/N: Sorry, I would have updated this a few days ago, but ff.net is being nasty. At one point it even said that my story had been deactivated, and I nearly blew the damn computer up. But no worries, I have backups everywhere. As it is, I've been working pretty hard, but then I get to write after work, and so I should have another chapter up within the next day.  
  
In case my explanation of dimensional laws and the structure of the universe confuses you, go refer back to Eva's explanation in chapter 15. This will be very important to understand in later chapters, and I'm not going to repeat myself for comprehension when it's already there.  
  
Dedicated to three people today. First, Raven Eades again, for flattering me so much on her literary website that in a fit of joy I went and wrote six more pages and started another idea to work with. I know you can't wait to read the back story.  
  
Second, to Victoria (Tori Black), for helping me get out of the house last Sunday, because I went and wrote most this chapter that night. Thanks, and please don't kill me after these two chapters. Reign in the fire and death for the moment.  
  
Thirdly, to sopybubbles, for being one of my most ecstatic reviewers and for that last review you left. I'm incredibly sorry for your loss; I've lost a friend before too quite suddenly. I work to convey accurate and genuine emotional reactions. I'm glad that my story can help you at least a little bit.  
  
Disclaimer: Do you really need this again? I don't own Harry Potter, and am trying to finish this before OoTP comes out (which may not be possible, but I still will finish this), which will just prove yet again just how wonderful JK Rowling is. If there's anything you don't recognize from outside this story, it's mine, so don't touch.  
  
Chapter 25  
  
Harry lay in the Hospital Wing that night, staring up at the dark ceiling with empty haunted eyes, exhausted beyond belief but unable to sleep due to his muddled thoughts. He refused to take the Dreamless Sleep potion, and it sat there on his bedside table, flask glinting in the moonlight. Memories flashed before him, and he clenched his eyes shut, unwilling to examine them just yet, but they persisted.  
  
Hissed words echoed in his ears, compounded by the icy cold. Visions of Voldemort's ghastly face, the rippling floor whipping out to tie him down, the light . . . the sight of his parents and godfather, waiting to hug him.  
  
He breathed out hard, determined not to cry. He was ice, he was stone; he couldn't, wouldn't feel anything. Not now. Just then a soft noise caught his attention, and he was thankful for the distraction from his melancholy.  
  
It sounded like someone had snuck in, and they would only do that if they didn't want Madame Pomfrey to hear. They weren't here for a medical condition, and since he was the only one in here at the moment, that someone had probably come to see him.  
  
Unsure of whether or not he wanted a visitor, probably Ron or Hermione, he turned his head away and pretended to be asleep.  
  
Near silent footsteps padded closer and stepped around the screens, then he felt the person stop at his bedside. He regulated his breathing carefully, feigning deep sleep. This was nearly stopped when a light hand brushed over his forehead, sweeping away the hair that still hung over it to gently trace his scar.  
  
He fought to keep still, but the touch seemed to race through him like lightning, much more pleasant than when Voldemort had touched it. That, more than anything else, gave him comfort, and unconsciously he relaxed a bit.  
  
Harry heard a soft sigh, then a weight settled beside him as the person sat down. The hand stroked his forehead again, then lightly traced down his face and the skin seemed to tingle. He couldn't have opened his eyes if he wanted to, unwilling to break the spell.  
  
Touch was a very interesting sense, for when the hand brushed his neck he was suddenly very aware of his entire body. Briefly he forgot how to breathe, and was only reminded by the ache in his chest that had nothing to do with his memories.  
  
Those hands were now fluttering down his arm, outlining the muscles with a smooth fingernail before it took his hand. The size let him know it was a girl, and he knew it wasn't Hermione. The presence that he felt rubbing his hand soothingly were nothing like he ever felt in connection with his best friend.  
  
His hand was raised, and to his shock and amazement felt soft lips press a kiss to his knuckles. Heat seemed to sweep out from that spot and warm his whole body, melting any ice left in his body.  
  
He couldn't stand it any longer; he opened his eyes gradually and saw Ginny Weasley sitting by his side, holding his hand to her chest and gazing at him seriously, sadly.  
  
He expected her to drop his hand, blush and run when she realized he was awake, but she didn't move. Instead she met his confused eyes steadily, now rubbing one hand down his arm as if trying to comfort him.  
  
Harry hated it when someone pitied him, even more when they tried to coddle him. But Ginny wasn't; she knew how he'd react to either of these, so she simply gave him what he needed. Comfort and reassurance that she was still there for him, still his friend.  
  
For a long time there was simply silence as they stared at each other, then she whispered, "I knew you weren't asleep."  
  
He didn't have anything to say to that. She continued to massage his hand and asked, "Are you feeling any better?" He nodded a bit. "The pain is nearly gone. Pomfrey is really good at mending broken bones, and Snape had a couple of useful potions on hand."  
  
Ginny dropped one hand to his left shoulder gently, massaging that too as if to reassure herself while helping him. "That's good, but that's not what I really meant." She leaned over him, chocolate brown eyes boring into the shadowed green ones.  
  
"Harry, whatever happened in that Dream Stand, it was more than just Voldemort. He no longer has the power to affect you as deeply as you reacted. I know something is wrong, and it's eating away at you." Harry turned away, unable to look at her for fear she'd see it in his eyes, but a light touch at his cheek turned him back towards her.  
  
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But don't keep it inside. Remember our conversation on the roof? I can see the pain you try to keep hidden away from everyone. All they see is the mask, but beneath it, you're dying."  
  
Dying. The word reverberated through his head and unwillingly his mind flashed to Sirius and his parents. Tears sprang to his eyes and one leaked out traitorously before he could force it away. Scowling, he brushed it away harshly, then sighed. "Something unexpected happened."  
  
Ginny snorted. "The whole damn thing was unexpected." His lips curled reluctantly at that. "Yeah." He went back to staring at the shadows on the ceiling.  
  
She simply sat by his side, holding his hand until he spoke up again. "It's just . . . I got a taste of what I really missed. Somehow that makes it all the worse."  
  
She nodded in at least partial comprehension and didn't push him, and her comforting presence soothed him enough that he could fall into that state between wakefulness and sleep, his mind still awake but body resting. He hardly heard her leave some time later, but knew when he was alone again.  
  
That night it was just him and the shadows.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
Harry spent a full day in the Hospital Wing after that episode in the Dream Stand, which was actually quite unusual nowadays for him. He was only released after lunch, rather reluctantly by Madame Pomfrey, when Ron and Hermione came in to inform him of an Order meeting that night. He simply nodded in acknowledgement and went straight to his dorm to flop down on his bed, staring at the ceiling and nearly dozing.  
  
He didn't move when Ron called him for dinner; he simply felt too sick to eat, both physically and emotionally. Problems kept running through his head; the clone, Voldemort's power increase, the Dream Stand, and his escape. He had pondered it over and over again during the long sleepless night in the infirmary, and had come to only one possible conclusion: He had died.  
  
That city gave it away as another dimension from his own, and Sirius, Lily and James could only be in one possible place. He had gone to the land of the dead, probably the one commonly known as heaven, one of two realms under Death's immediate control. But, according to Eva it was impossible for any living being to go there.  
  
Even people who are mostly dead or still revivable only see the light at the end of the tunnel. In order to fully materialize in the realm, one had to be not only merely dead, but really most sincerely dead. Then the soul was stuck there, never to return.  
  
So what in the name of Merlin's favorite pajamas happened? Harry at first thought that maybe he had hallucinated; a delusion brought on by the painful torture in the Dream Stand. After all, he had reacted wildly and irrationally once he woke up.  
  
Yet somehow his gut instinct was telling him loud and clear that this had been no illusion or hallucination. He had really seen his parents and his godfather, and they had seen him.  
  
Briefly he recalled that scene to his mind, having committed it to memory as his only time seeing his parents in person. His father, with messy hair flopping in his face, eyes twinkling at his son from behind his glasses, one arm wrapped around Lily's waist in a loving manner.  
  
His mother, with her long red hair and bright sparkling green eyes that he had inherited, arms outstretched towards her only son to hold him for the first time in 15 years. And Sirius, looking young and fit and happy with his fellow Marauder, staring at him through eyes that had closed forever in his arms . . . .  
  
Harry shook himself from these melancholy thoughts and rolled over with a sigh. Every time he healed, something came along to rip those old wounds open again. Randomly an old quote from somewhere drifted through his brain, one that he had probably heard in his cupboard while the Dursleys watched a movie on the telly. "So you always wanted a regular type life. What the fuck is that? Barbeques and ball games?" He gave a soft snort of irony. Well, he had both barbeques and ball games, just that the things cooking were demons and the balls flew.  
  
A knock on the door startled him, and Ron peeked his head in. "C'mon Harry, we have to run. The meeting's in ten minutes." Harry nodded and hauled himself out of bed, and as Ron closed the door to go wait for him in the Common Room he quickly changed into fresh clothes and pulled on his boots. Sighing, he joined Ron and the two boys left Gryffindor Tower, walking in comfortable silence to the Headmaster's office.  
  
Ron gave the password, they rode the staircase up, then crossed the room to the Phoenix chamber. They both waved a hand in front of the lock to enter, and the door swung open to reveal that they were the last ones to show up, and as they took their seats Dumbledore began the meeting.  
  
"It seems like our enemies have come back from their hiatus now. There has been more activity detected recently, and just this morning a minor attack was repelled in downtown London. Still no demon activity though." Moody rubbed his grizzled chin with a frown. "That makes 15 days since any of those damn things made so much as a detectable peep. They must be planning something big."  
  
Snape nodded in agreement, looking slightly disgusted at concurring with the ex-Auror. "Voldemort is not one to hold a weapon back unless it is allocated for a more important task. Where are his most likely targets?"  
  
Several eyes turned towards Ron, who blushed when he realized that was his cue. "Um, well," he cleared his throat and tried to stop the heat rushing to his ears. "With the Minister's residence destroyed, the list of probable targets has been rearranged." He took out a sheet of parchment and spread it on the table in front of him. "First in the line of fire is DMLE Headquarters and the Auror base."  
  
Several voiced protests at that, but Dumbledore waved them down. "Explain, Mr. Weasley." Ron expelled a quick breath. "They have to plan with the end in mind. It's like climbing a ladder; we know what the destination is, now we have to figure out the steps needed to reach it. Obviously, his ultimate goal is Hogwarts, right?"  
  
When everyone nodded, he continued, "To get to Hogwarts and have any chance of success, either through treachery or brute force, he had to cut off any help that we might call for. So You-Know . . . I mean, Voldemort, needs to neutralize Hogsmeade."  
  
He seemed a little surprised at the name, but accelerated past it. "However, that needs to be a quick attack to get a strong foothold for a Hogwarts assault, so he has to take out their support lines too, both material and personnel. This means some surrounding communities, but more importantly Diagon Alley and the Ministry."  
  
Mundungus Fletcher interrupted him, "Both of those are tough nuts to crack. They can't rely on mere brute strength to destroy them. They need insiders to allow them at least a foot in the door."  
  
"And they have them," Percy informed him a bit curtly. "There's at least one in every office with Dark leanings or spy connections, and most would be only too eager to help the Death Eaters out if it meant their ticket to initiation. Most others could be threatened or coerced into it." He looked down at his hands briefly. "They approached me early on, knowing my dissatisfaction and trying to exploit it. They are . . . very persuasive," he gulped, rubbing unconsciously at his stomach. Arthur placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.  
  
Ron nodded grimly. "Unless we can track them all down with concrete evidence and get them removed, which is nearly impossible, the Ministry is vulnerable. Now, the main protection of the Ministry and the wizarding community is of course the Aurors. Destroy them and any support and information they have, and he's one more rung up the ladder."  
  
Tori grimaced. "If they attack with demons, we're pretty much screwed. Only a handful know enough about their vulnerabilities to actually get out of a confrontation alive, much less kill one of those things."  
  
Remus glanced over at her with surprised. "What about those guns we used during the last attack? They were simple, yet effective. And we went to enough trouble to get them that they should last a while."  
  
Tori rolled her eyes in disgust. "You'd think so. Some were ruined in that attack, most are out of ammunition and we don't have the people who know what to get, let alone where and how. The few remaining reliable ones were somehow confiscated by both the artificers in Experimental Charms, and a couple of card-carrying Unspeakables. We're back at zero in our weapons department."  
  
Fred and George were shaking their heads simultaneously, and Dumbledore arched a white eyebrow at them. "I take it that you two disagree with Ms. Black's assessment?" George sat back casually and tutted, "Tori, my dear girl, you are sadly mistaken. Fred and I have applied the brutal training you so graciously put us through to our more creative endeavors." Fred mimicked his twin's posture and affected a serious air.  
  
"As my better half stated, we have turned briefly from mere pranks to a more, shall we say, dangerous line of products exclusively for the Aurors. Some are rather painful and even lethal, but with a 100% Weasley guarantee on it."  
  
George picked up the thread of discussion. "For example, we obtained one of the firearms, took it apart, then improved upon it. The result is a lightweight version of an Uzi, a type of Muggle automatic weapon, with magically enhanced bullets similar to armor-piercing ones."  
  
Fred added a bit apologetically, "We haven't tested it yet, for we can't find a demon who's willing to volunteer as a test dummy. But it tears through Graphorn hide like Ron through a treacle pudding." Ron throw his brothers a glare, but they merely grinned at him with their trademark looks as the other laughed quietly.  
  
Arthur nodded slowly. "Good work boys. And you've come up with other items like this?" They nodded enthusiastically. "We have an entire arsenal, probably enough for just the two of us to invade and occupy France." Fred looked at George. "Wait, bad example. Italy would be a bit more of a challenge, and it's prettier country."  
  
"And prettier women. Definitely Italy, and we might get a corner of Germany with a little bit of work." Dumbledore's moustache quivered as he suppressed a grin. The day the Weasley twins could remain serious for an entire meeting was the day the world ended.  
  
After a few more reports from various members, Dumbledore turned to Harry, who had been sitting quietly in his seat the entire time staring at the table. "Harry," he tried to catch his mind from wherever it had been wandering, "could you tell us about the assault yesterday?" The teen refused to look up and answered quietly but firmly, "No."  
  
The Order stirred at the refusal, and the headmaster frowned. "Why not? I believe that the information we could obtain would be beneficial to all of us." Abruptly Harry shoved his chair back and shot to his feet, stating flatly, "No. It wouldn't." He turned away and walked to the corner, staring at the wall with arms crossed protectively over his chest. He ignored the ominous muttering behind him, making it clear through body language that he definitely was not in the mood to talk. Dumbledore started to speak, "Harry . . ."  
  
But then Snape cut him off brusquely. "Potter. Any information on the Dark Lord is valuable. It could save lives. Quit sulking and help us." The condescending sneer in his voice worked, for Harry whirled on him, eyes flashing with a furious mix of emotions. "What do you want me to say?!" he fairly hissed in a low voice that sounded venomous and deadly.  
  
"That Voldemort knows I have the talisman? That he's madder than hell about it? That he's going to do everything he can to take it back? That he tortured me? That I was as helpless as a baby in his hands? That he in fact did kill me?! Fine! Consider it said!" His voice had grown steadily louder until he was bellowing back at his professor, then he spun back around and glared at the wall as if to drill an escape route through it with his gaze alone, arms wrapped around himself as if to ward off a chill.  
  
There was silence for a long minute where the only sound was Harry's harsh breathing, then Snape stood up slowly and walked over to him. Carefully he placed a hand on his shoulder, but Harry remained as rigid as stone. "What do you mean, he killed you?" The teen clenched his eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath, but didn't answer.  
  
Still, Snape knew exactly what he meant. "Harry," he said softly, "you're not upset about Voldemort. What happened?" Harry shook his head violently, even more unwilling to tell in front of the Order than in the Hospital Wing with Ginny.  
  
Snape stepped in front of him and met his distant pain-filled eyes. "Harry, tell me. What happened?" He quirked an eyebrow up. "Or do I need to go get the Veritaserum?" Harry glared at him briefly, then closed his eyes and sighed, slightly turning away from him. The Potions Master waited, simply watching him until the teen began to speak haltingly in a monotone.  
  
"He can manipulate the Dream Stand, not simply to take us both there, but the actual physical surroundings, like the floor. It . . . when it touched me . . . it was cold. Painfully burning cold. It actually freezes . . . from the inside out, slowing blood flow, heartbeat, breath . . . He . . . he used it to tie me down . . . I, I couldn't move at all, and it was so cold."  
  
He shuddered convulsively, eyes still closed as he spoke in a tightly controlled voice. "He threatened to torture me until my mind broke, just like the Longbottoms, with Neville looking on, and nobody would be able to do anything about it." He cleared his throat to continue speaking.  
  
"Before in the Dream Stand, I somehow managed to summon a light to transport me out. This time, it was . . . different. I'm not sure . . . I thought . . . I was dying, and then it came to me . . . I didn't do anything . . . it took me away to another place. I . . . I saw . . ." he couldn't finish, and scrubbed a rough hand over his eyes.  
  
Snape was still there, his presence surprisingly comforting as he placed both his hand's on Harry's shoulders. "What did you see?" The teen was breathing hard, attempting to reign in his emotions as the memories washed over him in full force. "I saw . . . I saw Sirius," he finally managed in a strangled whisper that all the Order heard nevertheless. Remus closed his eyes and seemed to wince.  
  
"Sirius was standing there . . . with my parents . . . and they saw me. They . . . they called for me, and my . . . my mum, she looked so happy to see me . . . she was reaching out for me . . . and my dad . . ." he choked up again, tears shining on his face but only Snape saw them.  
  
"Then . . . them it all disappeared, just like that . . . blackness . . . and I heard Ron calling me back. I followed the sound until I woke up." Harry's whole body shook as he suppressed the howl that wanted to be unleashed, but he made no sound. Ten years in the cupboard with the Dursleys had taught him silence under all circumstances.  
  
As one their hearts clenched in sorrow for the orphan boy who had a taste of what exactly he had lost yet never really knew it until now. He had lost them all over again.  
  
Harry surreptitiously swiped at his eyes and managed, "I'll be right back." With a pop he disappeared, and the Order all glanced around at each other, at loss for words after such a story. He didn't return for another ten minutes, and they spent the time in near silence, each pondering the implications of Voldemort's latest action.  
  
Finally the door creaked open and Harry stepped back in, the blank business face of the War Mage and Phoenix Lord firmly in place, betraying nothing as he went back to his seat.  
  
Uncomfortably Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Forgive me, but I do not understand. Are you sure you actually died?" The teen nodded curtly. "I'm sure. It was no hallucination. Several people confirmed that I was in fact dead for five minutes. I believe that you were there." He glanced around briefly. "My problem is that if that is so, then it is impossible for me to be here right now."  
  
Fletcher threw him a look. "Why? You do tend towards the impossible quite frequently." Harry just started back at him for a moment. "As much as I like to break conventional rules, do you understand the dimensional laws of the universe?" Most of the Order shook their heads, so he leaned back in his chair to lecture.  
  
"As I am given to understand, the universe is made up of different dimensions or realms, like threads on a loom. The Guardians are in charge of that loom, weaving together a pattern of sorts so that each dimension is somehow touched by others, yet remains separate. For instance, back towards the beginning another realm crossed over ours, and the result was humans beginning to understand and be able to harness magic.  
  
"Only the Guardians can fully access any dimension. Other beings below them are restricted to certain areas and tasks, like my trainer Eva. Beings in the realms are generally forbidden to cross to others except in special circumstances. I am one exception. Another is for departing souls. When someone here dies, their soul or essence goes to one of two of Death's realms. As we know it, heaven or hell."  
  
He drew a deep breath and resumed his lecture. "Once a soul leaves, they cannot return to their original place. Apparently in one realm, however, they are allowed to visit a few other dimensions for a very short time, but never their home."  
  
Flitwick interrupted him with a befuddled frown. "What about ghosts? How do you explain why they stick around?"  
  
Harry nodded slowly. "They are people with circumstances around their death that ties them here emotionally, until such a time as they're ready to move on. Like Nearly Headless Nick, whose bitterness over the botched beheading has kept him here for 500 years. Essentially he's on hold, and someday he'll be recalled out of here, just like the others."  
  
He sighed. "But that's off the topic. The problem is, I saw the realm and was seen there, I felt it. It was real. I was fully there, which meant that I was fully dead.  
  
So according to trans-dimensional laws, I should be there, not here. I am supposed to be dead."  
  
Utter silence dominated after that pronouncement, for a paradox of such magnitude is indeed a puzzlement. Ron leaned over to his friend and muttered, "Why are you complaining? Death is the only thing I really like cheating. Do you want to be dead?"  
  
Harry gave him a wan smile. "Well, it was much nicer there." He exhaled a bit and ran a distracted hand through his hair. "But not yet. Not yet."  
  
After a tense minute when it became clear that no one had anything else to say, Dumbledore spoke up to close the meeting. "Very well. Harry, I'm afraid you are on your own to figure it out." The teen nodded solemnly.  
  
"Fred, George, you will be responsible for providing new weapons and training the Aurors how to use them. Keep a sharp look out around your stores too for any new information. Tori, work with them and also begin to plan out a defensive strategy Preparation will save lives." They nodded once in acceptance.  
  
Dumbledore looked over at another redhead and braced himself. "Ron, you will work with Professor Snape to develop a counterattack for offensive moves on all targets. Please try not to kill each other before you're done." The two glared at each other briefly but reluctantly nodded.  
  
Ginny hid her amusement and sympathy for Ron's predicament, and Charlie shook his head with a sympathetic smile. "The rest of you, your usual assignments. If there's nothing else, this meeting is dismissed."  
  
********************************************************************  
  
As the days passed, the whispers and stares that followed Harry everywhere after the hallway incident died down, and the school seemed to return to normal.  
  
Well, as normal as Hogwarts ever gets, but with all things considered that's not saying much, if anything at all. Actually, there's really no such thing as normal. It's just a figment of your imagination. But then again, so is this.  
  
Back to the subject. Snape continued to be his usual nasty self, except now it extended to his own House, especially when the wards around his quarters kept catching them trying to make his life miserable.  
  
Trelawney predicted Harry's death with absolute certainty in about a thousand different but appropriately vague ways, but by now not even Lavender or Parvati took her seriously. Figg kept them worn out after Dueling Club, and Lupin worked with all years on various methods of both self-defense and attack.  
  
Ron and Hermione acted completely normal (for them anyway), bickering and flirting in public and while working for the Order. Ron complained continuously about the torture of working with Snape, but gradually he toned it down until grudgingly he admitted to Harry that Snape was actually a brilliant tactician with a wealth of inside information. They seemed to settle on an uneasy respect for each other, but that didn't mean they had to like each other. Much like Sirius and Snape, in fact.  
  
Once Harry was called out to DMLE Headquarters by Tori Black's request, and helped the Auror team of Charm builders to create new wars around the martial-looking building. As Bill set to work with other Curse breakers testing the wards, Harry got to look around at the defensive fortifications and layouts. Eventually he agreed that whoever attacked here would have a hell of a time even making it to the building, let alone inside.  
  
Once he saw Fred and George, but they were both too busy to notice him at the time. Fred was instructing a division of Aurors how to use their latest inventions, including the modified guns and something that had a passing resemblance to a bazooka.  
  
Harry watched with great interest as Fred hefted the tube to his shoulder and with a button push sent a stream of pure green flames spitting out at the target, which had been outfitted with Graphorn armor. In an instant the target vaporized, leaving only a few floating ashes with no trace of smoke anywhere. Pretty impressive.  
  
George, on the other hand, was busy with an entirely different type of weapon. As Harry was checking out the watch tower balconies around the perimeter, he saw George and Tori backed into a corner. Their posture was very familiar, as he had seen it several times with Ron and Hermione in the last year, and he stifled both an urge to laugh and his gag reflex as her hands ran up his back, apparently pleased with whatever his mouth was doing at the moment. Harry shook his head and left them to it, hoping not to run across them again.  
  
Even as they prepared for the big one, the Aurors still had to respond to the various random Death Eater attacks. Luckily with the inclusion of the Order's Detection Parchments most were over before they could really get started. Harry knew about them, of course, but never needed to go himself anymore.  
  
The only downside was that some Death Eaters always escaped, and the Aurors had to divert some resources to guard the capture ones in a renovated castle out along the shore by Azkaban. Things seemed to have calmed down, with the Dark Mark seen less and less often.  
  
However, neither the demons nor the dementors had made an appearance in a month. It was the lull before the storm, and everyone was setting up the chess pieces for the next big move. While the Order prepared itself for a serious escalation of the war, Harry simply waited. He went to classes, did his homework, kept up his physical training routine with Ron in the mornings, and as captain started up Quidditch practices.  
  
Even though the previous year's reserve team had trained quite a bit with the regular team, they hadn't had any true game experience and lacked the coordination of seasoned players. Harry drove them all hard during thrice weekly practices, even though their first match wasn't until the second week of November. They had a Cup to defend.  
  
While on the outside Harry appeared perfectly fine, that mask hid inner turmoil. The Dream Stand continued to haunt his sleeping and waking hours, and the clone problem plagued his thoughts like a mutated virus.  
  
Worse, he was beginning to suspect that Eva, despite all her forthright bluntness to his questions, had been deliberately withholding information from him. That though burned into him, doubt gnawing at his spirit, until one sleepless night he gave in and attempted to contact Eva through their mental link.  
  
Much to his shock, he found the connection blocked. Just another disturbing topic to ponder. Rolling over restlessly in his bed, he punched his pillow and buried his head in it, feeling suddenly and inexplicably alone and lonely.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
The first week of October brought in some particularly beautiful weather in that part of Scotland, and so it was that on a lazy Saturday morning Harry lay outside by the lake with his eyes closed, enjoying the sun and warmth. Come evening it tended to drop to more seasonably chilly temperatures, but now it was perfect.  
  
Idly he remembered the day after Halloween last year, when he had been lying in this exact spot after his swim, only to have Ron confront him about all the girls spying on him.  
  
He let a smile cross his face at the memory, and admitted if only to himself that while very much embarrassing, it actually had been a little flattering and thrilling to know that they found him attractive, and maybe even desirable.  
  
Still, such shallow attentions ultimately meant nothing, and held no real attraction for him. It was harder but infinitely more rewarding to find friendship and respect, and he appreciated the few close friends he had more than ever.  
  
Occasionally though, he thought about love, and why it was the one thing that seemed to be denied him in this war. He saw what Ron and Hermione had, what other couples had, what his mum and dad had. He wanted love. Maybe after the war, if he even dared to dream that far, he'd work on that.  
  
He dreamed about what his life would be like if he was normal, just plain Harry. Would he have a girlfriend? Would he actually find someone who loved him for who he was? What would they do together? Actually, he had a few ideas on that last one, but those were just fanciful dreams.  
  
He thought about Ginny and her obvious attraction to him, and wondered if he could ever reciprocate those feelings. Or what about Eva? They shared a close connection and friendship, and he suspected that she cared for him more than she readily admitted. She was attractive to him, and they were comfortable with each other. They had a lot in common, and fit together well.  
  
However, a far stronger feeling in him was to avoid those types of relationships, that he was meant to be single. He searched for the source of this, but it was something that his heart echoed, and he trusted his instincts.  
  
Experimentally he tried to picture his future; what would he do if he finally managed to end this war? A world at peace, with no Dark Lords or demons running around destroying lives. He saw himself traveling, wandering distant lands and exploring everything, meeting new people, learning and experiencing. Alone.  
  
He sighed, releasing those thoughts far into the future. Maybe dreams were only for those who could afford them.  
  
Harry thought of his friends. Hermione was currently in the library, her favorite place, with Professors Figg and vector working on a new type of defensive wards for the Ministry. Apparently she thought of innovating an obsolete charm ward by combining it with one of the twins' charm inventions, and needed Professor Vector's help with the Arithmancy involved with spell building.  
  
Ginny was no doubt keeping tabs on the Slytherins, made much easier with Percy's advice to George for a new security invention, around her extra Animagus lessons with McGonagall. She couldn't wait to see what animal she would transform into. Hopefully something small and unobtrusive, to better her role as a spy.  
  
Ron had been called in to Dumbledore's office with Snape to discuss strategy and the latest information from intelligence sources around Great Britain, as well as updates on Dark movement around the world that could deal directly with Voldemort. Under his suggestions, Hogsmeade residents had all been informed of the potential danger and were making their own preparations. Some left, either temporarily or permanently, but most dug in with defensive plans, unwilling to give up their homes without a fight.  
  
As he thought of the village, arm over his eyes to shield from the hot sun, Harry had a sudden urge for a butterbeer. Hogwarts students hadn't been able to visit for the last year, and he was sure Madame Rosmerta's business was suffering for it.  
  
All at once tied of sitting around and moping, Harry sat up and looked around him cautiously. No one was outside at the moment, since it was nearly lunch time, and he felt a rare mischievous grin spread.  
  
Quickly, before he could change his mind, he summoned his money bag and transformed his features into another disguise, a completely forgettable twenty-something man that he last used in Diagon Alley. Then he Apparated to the street outside the Three Broomsticks, which appeared nearly deserted. He wondered how many times the Marauders had used the secret passageways to sneak down to Hogsmeade for a butterbeer interlude, just like he was today.  
  
He walked in to find the pub populated by only two old warlocks in the corner and the pretty bartender, a far cry from the busy crowds of students on Hogsmeade weekends. Rosmerta looked up at the tinkle of the bell and smiled as he walked up to the bar and took a stool. "Good day to you sir. What can I get you? I specialize in fresh brewed butterbeer, and some swear by my stock of Ogden's Firewhiskey."  
  
Harry smiled back. "Butterbeer sounds great." Nodding, she had a tankard drawn in seconds and he slid her some coins before taking a long sip. He sighed with satisfaction as the frothy liquid quenched his thirst and helped him relax with the memory of better times. "I've missed good butterbeer." She smiled back. "Glad you like it." He glanced around then asked, "Has business always been this slow?" Rosmerta lost her smile as she sighed.  
  
"No. But with Hogwarts canceling their Hogsmeade visits and the rise of Dark forces, my customers have been dwindling. Some of my regulars moved away, and others don't have the money to come in for a pint nearly as often. The economy's been hit hard, what with the Diagon Alley attack a few months ago. And it's not just me."  
  
She gestured towards the door. "Honeydukes is relying mainly on their mail order business to pay the bills. I don't know how Weasley's Wizard Wheezes manages to keep this second shop open here, because they get so few customers. Maybe they have enough in London to justify it, but still . . ."  
  
Harry blinked in surprise and took another sip. He had no idea how the rest of the wizarding world was coping, and looking back he realized how sheltered and surreal his life really was, both of them. On one hand, locked away at Hogwarts. On the other, venturing out into a shadowy world of death, destruction, and powerful magic.  
  
It never occurred to him that there were still other people who had never directly faced the Darkness like he had, but still weathered its ravages and kept living like they did, and meanwhile he was out trying to counter supernatural powers and prophecies.  
  
He watched the bartender as she wiped down the bar with a rag. Rosmerta made her living honestly in the pub, working for every cent she made and depending upon customers for her livelihood. The other two customers finished their drinks, settled the bill and left, leaving him the sole patron. He ordered another butterbeer and thought hard as he drank it.  
  
An idea floated into his mind and he toyed with it briefly, weighing all considerations before deciding his course of action. Harry waved Madame Rosmerta over and asked, "Do you have a lot of butterbeer stored in the back?" She looked at him curiously. "Barrels. I brew a fresh batch every week, but it keeps for months. I probably have enough in my storeroom to serve everybody up at Hogwarts twice."  
  
He grinned. "Perfect. That's just what I want. How much would that cost?" The curvy bartender gaped at him, then realized he was perfectly serious and quickly went to tally it up, a slightly shell-shocked look on her face. As soon as she was out of sight, he brought out his whistle and blew a couple notes, and soon Eredfire swooped in through the open door.   
  
Harry scribbled a quick note on a scrape of parchment then handed it to his phoenix. *Please take this to Dobby in the kitchens, then assist him if he needs help with the delivery.* The phoenix chuckled a bit as he took the note in his beak.   
  
He shot Eredfire an apologetic look. *I'm sorry, but you are faster and easier to summon than Hedwig.* Eredfire fluffed his feathers. I do not mind, master Harry. But Hedwig might get a little jealous.  
  
He flew off with an amused trill, and Harry turned back to his butterbeer just as Madame Rosmerta returned with a bill, which she slid over to him. "For my entire stock of butterbeer, barrels and bottles, even today's batch." He looked over the figure and calculated he had just enough on him to pay in cash, rather than order it out of his Gringotts vault account.  
  
He nodded and placed the bill on the bar. "That looks reasonable. Here," he took out his money bag and tossed it to her, "I believe that should cover it, plus change."  
  
Expertly she dumped it out and counted it up quickly, coins clinking in her palm, then glanced up at him. "If you're sure . . ." He nodded decisively, and she shrugged as a delighted grin blossomed. "Okay then, it's all yours. Don't drink it all at once."  
  
Rosmerta tried to give him back his change, but Harry refused, only accepting his empty money pouch. "Consider it a tip." She started to move to the back to round up the barrels, but then stopped as an idea occurred to her. "How are you going to transport it?"  
  
Just then Dobby appeared with a pop by Harry's ankles, just as eclectically dressed as ever. "Sir, Dobby got your message and he decided it was a grand idea, sir, and Dobby is here to help you get all the butterbeer back to Hogwarts."  
  
Rosmerta shot a weird glance at Harry, and he shrugged and said, "I can't drink all that, and you did say you had enough to serve Hogwarts twice over. Besides, the students have also missed good butterbeer." He winked at her astonished face.  
  
She took a deep breath and shook her head incredulously. "Let me get this straight. You just bought a four month supply of butterbeer, covering most of my expenses for the year, and you are giving it away to the students at Hogwarts." Harry paused, considering, then shrugged again with a slightly sheepish nod. "And the professors. That just about sums it up, yes."  
  
"Why?" He smiled sadly. "I sat here and realized that I have some pretty fond memories tied to sitting in here with friends and laughing over a butterbeer. Somehow that just made my day all that much brighter. So I just do what I can to make life seem a little better for everyone. In the darkest times, all you need is a little light to give you hope."  
  
He picked up his tankard and drained it as the first barrels went floating out under Dobby's direction. "Besides, your butterbeer is excellent, and it sure beats pumpkin juice."  
  
They watched more barrels and clinking boxes float out, then Harry slapped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh! I completely forgot about that!" The bartender glanced at him quizzically, but he grinned at here. "I forgot about something I set up a long time ago as a surprise. Maybe today would be a good day for it."  
  
Standing up, he stretched out a hand, and with a grin Rosmerta shook it. "Nice doing business with you, Mr. . . ."  
  
He paused, then answered, "Potter. Mr. Potter." With a wink at her, he picked up a case of bottles and carried it out, following the last barrels. He caught up with Dobby just inside the gates. "Dobby, had lunch been served yet?"  
  
The house elf shook his head, ears flapping around the tea cozy. "In five minutes more, Harry Potter. The other house elves were not happy when Dobby had to leave, but I says it was urgent delivery, and they is having no choice but to let me go, sir."  
  
Harry grimaced. "You're not going to be in trouble, are you?" Dobby just smiled. "Not to worry. I is not in trouble for helping you, and I would do it anyways if I was, sir." Harry smiled back at him gratefully. "Okay. Now, I'm going to take these cases of bottles with me back to Gryffindor Tower. Serve the barrels with lunch in place of the pumpkin juice. Don't tell anyone who it's from, got it?" the enthusiastic elf nodded, then with a snap of his fingers he and the butterbeer disappeared.  
  
Harry hauled the three heavy cases up to his dormitory and stashed them under his bed before heading down to lunch. Outside the doors he heard a tremendous amount of chatter and laughter along with the clinking of dishes. He smiled to himself at the comforting sounds, then walked into the Great Hall and plopped down in his seat next to Ron.  
  
The red head broke off from his animated conversation with Dean and Seamus and turned to his friend excitedly. "There you are! Here, take a drink and tell me I'm not delusional." He thrust Harry's goblet at him, and obediently he took a sip.  
  
He raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise. "That's not pumpkin juice. Unless I'm mistaken, that's butterbeer." He took another gulp and added, "Madame Rosmerta's finest, it tastes like."  
  
Ron crowed triumphantly and gestured wildly at the other two boys at the table. "See? I knew it! We've not been down to the Three Broomsticks in so long I've nearly forgotten what it tastes like."  
  
He finished off his own goblet with a flourish, and Seamus grinned. "I'm thanking me lucky stars that these goblets are self-refilling. A toast," he offered, raising his goblet high. The other boys cheered softly, clinked glasses and drank deeply.  
  
Harry smiled at their enthusiasm and glanced down the Gryffindor table to find all his housemates considerably cheered by the butterbeer surprise, as were the other tables. The younger students who had never been to Hogsmeade were particularly jubilant at their first taste.  
  
Certain little things caught his eye. Denis Creevey sat with his brother Colin and seemed to be playing some sort of drinking game with their butterbeer. Justin Finch-Fletchley was talking earnestly with Ernie MacMillian and Hannah Abbot, all sporting huge grins as they sipped at their goblets. Cho Chang at the Ravenclaw table laughed with her girl friends at some story a seventh year was telling. Overall, people looked like they should be, without a war raging outside in the real world. This was normal.  
  
Up at the professors' table, however, many sipped cautiously and engaged their neighbors in low conversations, concern on their faces as they gestured towards the pitchers and goblets repeatedly. Snape was ignoring Lupin as he examined his own goblet piercingly, so the DADA professor leaned in towards McGonagall's huddled conversation with Dumbledore.  
  
The Potions Master suddenly looked up and stared right at Harry for a moment, then questioningly arched an eyebrow. Harry let a small smirk curl his lips as he gave a miniscule incline of his head in affirmative acknowledgement, and was slightly surprised when Snape lifted his goblet a bit towards him with a fractional nod of his own, took a long draft and went back to his meal as usual.  
  
Harry was still trying to come to grips with this improved relationship between them when Hermione bustled in ten minutes later and flung herself in a seat across from him and Ron. "I can't believe the time completely got away from me like that! I'm starving!" she moaned, reaching for the nearest platter of food to heap on her plate. "It's just the subject is so interesting and challenging, but we were having difficulties getting the equations right to where the spells could be modified enough to combine together."  
  
Amused, the boys watched her as she filled her plate talking nonstop, and Ron silently passed her the goblet with a wide grin. She paused for breath, drank a bit, then continued, "One time we thought we had it, but then the charm . . ." she trailed off as her brow furrowed in confusion, and she looked into her goblet with wide eyes. "What the . . . this isn't juice."  
  
Ron laughed a bit. "Nope. It's butterbeer. Looks like the house elves mixed up today and tapped the stores. Good for us." Hermione only looked more confused and alarmed. "Ron, they don't store butterbeer in the kitchens. You've been down there enough, you should know." She glanced up at the High Table.  
  
"Dumbledore didn't order this," she stated as the headmaster gazed into his own goblet with surprise and concern, and she pushed hers away. "We don't know where this came from. How do we know it's not poisoned, or worse?"  
  
Ron started choking, but Harry laid a hand on his arm and leaned in conspiratorially. "It's from the Three Broomsticks, direct from Madame Rosmerta. I asked Dobby." That seemed to placate them, but then Ron glanced over, suspicious. "When did you ask him? You seemed surprised when you tasted it."  
  
Harry sighed. "I was outside when he was bringing it up from Hogsmeade. It was a surprise, so I didn't want to ruin it for you." Well, it was the truth. Kind of. But he could tell in their expressions that they had figured out that he was probably involved, but decided to drop it.  
  
Harry finished his lunch and excused himself, but at the doors he paused briefly, took out his wand surreptitiously and whispered, "Afficijam." Pocketing it again, he sat back to watch the fireworks. The Three Broomsticks earlier had brought Sirius to mind, and how often he and his father had been down there on lazy Saturdays, drinking butterbeer and plotting new pranks.  
  
This in turn reminded him of the various traps he had set in the Common Rooms the night of the Dueling Club and that attack. He had forgotten all about them, and so they lay in hibernation, waiting for his signal. In true Marauder tradition, he had decided today was perfect. Sirius would be proud of him. With that single whispered command, the Great Hall erupted.  
  
The students at the Hufflepuff table disappeared, to be replaced with a bunch of black and yellow furred Nifflers, who immediately started attacking the gold plates and silverware. Gryffindors who had just been laughing and drinking were suddenly transformed into a variety of lizards, and soon the table and benches were covered in scurrying clawed feet as they darted here and there.  
  
Ravenclaw table had become the Owlery annex apparently, for all different species of owls perched there clicking their beaks and ruffling their feathers. The Slytherins, in contrast to the cool sophistication of their house mascot, were all shocking pink Puffskeins. Long thin tongues skittered around snatching up bits of food from the floor and the table.  
  
The professors all shot to their feet with wands out, but their immediate alarm was diffused with the laughter echoing over the noises of the animals and falling dishes. Harry laughed so hard he was leaning against the wide double doors to keep from falling over, tears streaming as he gasped for breath. Snape scowled and bellowed, "POTTER!" while next to him Lupin was fighting his own amusement.  
  
Harry calmed himself enough to straighten up and face them, but then summoned three Puffskeins and started juggling them casually. "Yes Professor?" he inquired, the picture of innocence around the flying balls of purring fur. Puffskeins love to be tossed.  
  
McGonagall turned away, losing her own battle against a wide smile, and Vector actually had the audacity to chuckle. Snape glared at the two of them before rounding on Harry. "What did you do?" he said in his most menacing voice, but the teen simply blinked owlishly, imitating what used to be the Ravenclaws. "Me? Nothing. I was just leaving."  
  
Snape sneered and pointed his wand at Harry, but instead of the curse he half-expected the three Puffskeins simply levitated back to their places. Lupin said warningly, "Harry . . ." but with a slight smile curling the edges of his mouth, and Harry shrugged. "Well, butterbeer is good for lifting the spirits, but pranks always lighten the mood." He smiled widely. "Besides, this was nothing compared to the Common Rooms."  
  
Following that pronouncement, the students began popping back to normal and every single person was glaring daggers at him. He looked around, stated, "I think that's my cue to leave," then quickly exited and bolted down the corridor at top speed to avoid the first few hexes.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
It was much later, after the Common Rooms had been discovered and the aftermath cleaned up and tempers had cooled a bit, when Harry finally returned from wherever he had been hiding since lunch.  
  
He snuck back into the tower just as the clocks ticked midnight, and the Fat Lady tried to tell him off for being out after curfew. Luckily the Common Room was empty and he walked up the stairs to quietly open the door to the dormitory.  
  
Immediately he was beset by a deluge of pillows from the other boys, and a particularly hard hit knocked him back into the door. Reflexively he brought his hands up but restrained himself from using magic to ward off the attackers just in time.  
  
Instead, he blocked one blow and yanked the pillow away from the wielder, then went on the offensive. That instigated a full-out pillow war, and they all were soon smacking each other happily with large feather pillows.  
  
It only stopped when Seamus' pillow, on impact with Dean's head, burst and feathers exploded everywhere, flying in their faces and settling over every surface. The boys looked around at the mess, then each other, and collapsed on their beds, sniggering uncontrollably. Then Neville accidentally snorted up a feather, and that sent them into hysterics, especially when he finally managed to blow it back out his nose.  
  
Ron finally propped himself up on his elbow to glare over at Harry. "You turned me into a newt!" Harry shrugged casually and said, "You got better."  
  
Shaking his head, Dean asked, "How long have you been planning that?" "About a month, give or take. Too bad you couldn't see what I did to the Slytherin Common Room." He grinned toothily.  
  
From there the night only got better, for Harry made amends by pulling out one of the cases of butterbeer to share, and soon they settled down to engage in some serious guy talk, from Quidditch to girls to Quidditch to homework to Quidditch to brooms and of course, Quidditch. For a while, it almost seemed like they were normal teenagers, sitting on their beds drinking butterbeer and swapping stories.  
  
Right in the middle of Ron's passionate defense of the Chudley Cannons in spite of their abominable record, reality intruded when Harry's arm began to sting fiercely. He winced and leaned over his bed to get the Detection Parchment out of his trunk, then spread it over his knees. One glance confirmed his suspicions, and with an unhappy sigh he looked up to meet Ron's gaze somberly.  
  
"It begins." 


	26. Sunday Bloody Sunday

A/N: I thought about rushing this so I could finish before June 21st, but when it came down to it, I couldn't. No matter what, I stick with the integrity of the writing and story, and I've seen far too many rushed half- assed jobs lately. So I will continue writing this and finish it up as quick as possible, but without sacrificing quality. Besides, Book 5 doesn't really matter to my plot. We all know this was AU to begin with. If you stop reading this after reading OoTP, that's fine with me, although you make me sad. *another Monty Python reference!!* I still appreciate any and all reviews. I'm moving on to other things after this anyways, including my own universal back story and a couple horror/fantasy shorts.  
  
Sorry about jumping around a lot in this chapter. It's just one massive battle scene. Stick with me.  
  
Disclaimer: Title inspired by U2. HP not mine. Book Five out tonight. Peasants rejoice.  
  
Chapter 26  
  
As the four student members of the Order raced toward Dumbledore's office, Harry quietly asked Ron, "Did you have any special plans for me?" Ron shook his head and they rounded a corner into the next corridor at a dead run. "No. You go do what you do best. Uncalculated mayhem and destruction."  
  
Harry had to grin at that. "I do have a talent for that. Okay, see you later." With a pop he disappeared in mid stride, and the three remaining teens sprinted up to the Headmaster's office.  
  
The Phoenix chamber had been transformed into a war room; screens on the walls flashed continuously with information, one showing the DMLE Auror headquarters and its defensive wards surrounded by a swarming tide of gray. At first glance it appeared that at least half the Auror corps was inside the building.  
  
Dumbledore glanced over at them when the teens ran in and informed them soberly, "It started about five minutes ago. They tripped the outer perimeter early, so all the wards are active and holding. The building's in lockdown, and at last communication there are approximately 300 people inside, preparing a counterattack."  
  
Ron spoke up bluntly. "Make sure they know not to attempt to leave the building until after the fourth ward's been breached. Any sooner and they'll set off the countermeasures themselves." The headmaster tapped a small watch on his wrist with his wand, and a female voice answered, "Black here."  
  
Dumbledore relayed Ron's instructions and received an "Acknowledged, thanks." At Hermione's curious glance, Dumbledore explained, "The twins' latest, inspired by Muggle two-way radios, I believe. Portable, easier and more reliable than Floo." Ginny looked impressed. "Looks like they put that thousand Galleons to good use, and then some. Do they even sleep anymore?"  
  
By now Ron was standing in front of the screens examining them critically, Snape hovering behind him. "All right, so far they're sticking to a basic swarm and overwhelm technique. Expected. Perfect."  
  
Suddenly a bright green dot lined with white popped onto the screen right in the middle of the gray blob, and words materialized above it labeling it as "Wraith." Ron nodded. "Good, Harry's in, and the Aurors know the drill. Let's see what happens next."  
  
He didn't have long to wait, for mere seconds later behind the gray, clumps of purple dots drifted in to circle the whole mess, and lingering on the perimeter were scattered red dots. Perplexed, Ron searched for the color key until he saw it. "Purple = dementors." He frowned as his mind raced to include this new development. "That adds a twist to it. Harry better watch himself."  
  
"Literally. What am I doing now?" Harry asked as he walked in, startling Ron. "Wha-" he glanced back at the screen and relaxed. "Oh, Wraith sent you back?" Harry nodded and stood next to his friend, watching the screens updating with new information. "I may not be as good as you are at strategy, but I can give updates from Wraith and some insight. If he needs me, he'll recall me, but we want to try and avoid having my face seen outside Hogwarts."  
  
Ron nodded distractedly, already focused on the battle and evaluating, analyzing the screens like a massive chess board. Without looking he called back to Dumbledore, "Is the Order ready to go in?" the headmaster looked up from his conversation with Hermione. "I've called them in, and they can go in five minutes."  
  
Ron shook his head negatively. "Hold off sending them in just yet. We'll let the demons and dementors get inside the inner perimeter and separate from the Death Eater. There's no sign of Voldemort yet, so the Order can take the support forces first."  
  
Harry let a small smile cross his face. This was definitely Ron's forte, and he seemed so comfortable with his leadership role, bossing even Dumbledore around when needed. Even Hermione, who bossed everybody around, didn't dare do that. He settled back into a chair, eyes on the screen as he tried to feel what his double was up to now, praying that whatever communication trouble they had before was gone now.  
  
Over the next two minutes, the Order members gathered in the chamber and waited, watching Ron and the screens as the battle really began.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Wraith threw himself to the ground as another blast of flame went right over him, taking one demon down with him and using it to kill two more. Scrambling back to his feet, his sword flashed around to decapitate two more.  
  
Yet they kept coming, and he knew without looking that more were converging on the ward perimeter, trying to collapse it. Again and again magic flashed in the air to repel the invaders but their tenacity and resistance to magic allowed them to break through with a roar.  
  
Wraith caught a glimpse of them sprinting across an open stretch of land, then one stepped on a small hassock and it erupted with fire and soil, throwing bloody bits of demon parts in the air. This was quickly followed by several more explosions which tossed the carcasses in every direction, most bleeding profusely or dismembered.  
  
A minefield between the wards, with both Muggle and magical pressure- triggers, worked more effectively than any other shield barrier. Still, with the sheer number of demons here they would clear it soon and progress to the next line. Wraith kept fighting, doing his best to take as many down as possible and leave fewer for the Aurors to deal with.  
  
The similarity of the situation to the night of the Minister's attack only fueled his rage; every stroke was an atonement for Sirius. If luck and Fate decided to cooperate and play nice for once, there was the hopeful possibility that they all might make it back alive tonight.  
  
That hope dissolved in a wave of cold, and Wraith shook his head, momentarily distracted by the faint screaming and voices that echoed through his brain. Unfortunately, in the middle of a battle is not a good time to be distracted by the voices in one's head, and he paid dearly for it.  
  
A demon came in close and slashed twice; the first drawing a line of fresh blood from a cut on his thigh, the second striking his side right above the left hip, only partially deflected by the dragon leather he wore and lodging against his pelvic bone several inches in.  
  
Temporarily fogged by the blinding pain, Wraith stumbled and nearly fell, then wrenched away from the blade violently, which came away wet with his blood. Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword and chopped off its arm and on the backswing separated the top half of its body from the lower.  
  
He had to get out of there. Once injured, he would slow and his chances of survival, along with the Aurors', would decrease exponentially. Before another demon could touch him, he focused his thoughts and Apparated out.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Back at Hogwarts, Ron's eyes widened when he saw the Wraith dot disappear from the map. "What? What happened? He's not . . ." Harry spoke up, eyes unfocused as his mind was obviously elsewhere. "He's hurt. Last demon got him pretty good. He Apparated out to heal. Should be back in about two to three minutes." He didn't let them know that he was straining to feel even that much. The separation was back with a vengeance, for he could only pick up vague surface impressions. Unnoticed, he grimaced.  
  
The Order sighed in unison, but Ron scowled. "That may not be good enough. They're advancing faster now with the dementors. I bet they're going to let the dementors in first to take the fight out of the Aurors. Unless . . ." he stared thoughtfully at the screens for a moment, then activated his own watch charm. "Tori, activate sequence one, now."  
  
"Gotcha," came the response, then two seconds later the screens flashed with a brilliant light of magical disruption that had everyone bringing their hands up to shield their eyes. When it cleared, a huge hole had been carved out of the center forces of demons, like a mouse through a loaf of bread. "Whoa! That worked! But give us a minute to recover before you do another one of those," Tori exclaimed over the communicator.  
  
Ron exhaled as he smiled, then said, "Hey Tori, you have your Detection Parchment?" "Yes. Using it to watch what they're doing around us. It's not pretty." "I know. Dementors are going to encircle the building. Make sure that you send out Patroni first for the dementors, probably from an advance force, before you launch your own attack."  
  
"Copy that, Red Leader," she replied, a smirk clearly heard in her voice, and he scowled. "Don't call me that."  
  
***************************************************************  
  
When Wraith popped back in, he was a little more cautious this time and appeared towards the back to evaluate, out of range of the Death Eaters he spotted lurking around the edges. It didn't look good. The dementors passed through the wards easily and had surrounded the building, searching for an entrance point. The demons had tripped the building countermeasures, but several were currently hunting down the traps and emplacements and destroying them.  
  
A small group of Aurors stood on a couple of the watchtower balconies, casting silver shapes of Patronus down on the dementors, which scattered briefly but came right back when the spell wore off. Soon the wards would give way, and the Aurors would have to come out and fight. Wraith needed to even the score.  
  
He ran forward and whipped out his staff, then used it to levitate himself 50 feet over the ranks to the edge of the ward. Concentrating fiercely, he shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" and watched as three golden animals charged the dementors. As the magical Marauders tore into the creatures, Wraith called on his wind Elemental and slammed the demons backwards several dozen meters with a hurricane blast of air. Some were hammered into the ground by the force, while others went cartwheeling to the sound of cracking bones.  
  
He released his levitation spell and landed in a crouch between the demons and the dementors, a nice pocket of empty space around him to work in. By the faint light of the sliver of moon low on the horizon, he could see the shadowy dementors groping along the outside walls, projecting their horrid presence into the building and feeding off the emotions inside.  
  
Wraith turned and drew his weapons as the demons picked themselves up and ran with supernatural speed at the single human standing in their way.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Many jumped when Harry suddenly slammed his hands down on the table and growled "Damn it!" they looked from the screens to the War Mage as he stood up and announced, "I'm going." Before anyone could protest, he vanished with a pop signaling Apparation and with a shrug Ron turned back to his screen, where Wraith was currently being charged by a wave of demons. They would overtake him in less than a minute, and there was still the backdrop of dementors to worry about.  
  
Eyes darting about taking in information for his brain to process, Ron tried to cover all possibilities to make victory possible. The red dots caught his attention, and a plan kicked into action in his mind. Before he could say a word, a second green and white dot appeared next to Wraith's, and suddenly there were two facing the demon onslaught.  
  
The redhead dismissed them temporarily; he couldn't do anything about that right now. But those Death Eaters . . . "Okay," he spoke up authoritatively, "We need a scout force to take out the Death Eaters." He gave the room a cursory once-over. "Snape, Charlie, Arabella, Remus, and . . ." he chewed his lower lip for a moment, "and Ginny."  
  
His sister looked startled for a second, then nodded determinedly. His mum, however, was not pleased one little bit. "Ron! No! She can't go in there! Ginny's not old enough!" Ginny threw her mum an irritated look, but Ron met Molly's eyes steadily. "She's old enough to be in this Order by her own merit. She can handle herself. Now," he turned to the scout force.  
  
"Go in behind them. Each of you will take a different group. Be as silent as possible, neutralize the target, then stand by for further orders. Report in as soon as you're done and be my eyes." He turned to the headmaster. "Ginny'll need a Portkey."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, and a few minutes later handed the young woman a small rock. "Password activated. Tap and say 'phoenix'." He handed the rest of the small group little pins. "Take these Portkeys down to Hogsmeade and Apparate to the battle." They complied silently, each one disappearing with a little swirl of color.  
  
Before Charlie vanished, Bill called to him, "Hey, make sure to stay on target this time. No more old ladies." Charlie quirked a small smile at the reference to his failed Apparation test, then Portkeyed out with a slight pop of displaced air.  
  
The Order watched the screens as the charge came, and demons started dropping around the two green dots. Ron frowned. "It'd be a hell of a lot easier if we could get that Apparation and Portkey ward down. Problem is, it's built into the building; every stone has the spell individually to reinforce the total."  
  
He glanced back at Hermione questioningly. "Any way we could collapse it without vaporizing the building?" She thought for a moment. "Well, if they're tied directly to the stones, yes. But it's not really feasible. You'd have to disrupt each spell, so the easies would be to take out a chunk of every single charmed brick. We don't have the time for that." Ron sighed. "Well, it was a thought."  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Wraith and Harry fought back to back, moving in near perfect synchronization with matching swords and parvellahs. Slowly they carved an ever-widening gap in the ranks; too slowly, for now they were completely surrounded and so was the building they were trying to defend, with the Aurors trapped inside.  
  
Harry shuddered as a wave of cold swept over him from the dementors, but couldn't spare the time to cast his Patronus. He could barely keep ahead of the constant attacks on him personally, let alone those on the Aurors, and he gritted his teeth in frustration.  
  
This was getting them nowhere. They needed to change the plan, immediately. He shouted his intention back to Wraith, who simply nodded and ran a demon through the heart. Clearing himself a space, Harry levitated himself up, barely avoiding a blast from a flamethrower, and headed straight for the balcony where three Aurors stood.  
  
Alighting on the stone floor, he nodded in greeting and asked, "What's your plan?" One big man that he tentatively identified as Robert spoke immediately. "The fourth ward just went down, so our counterattack should be coming from downstairs at any time. We stay up here to chase off dementors and any siege type attacks."  
  
Harry nodded. "Just be careful of flying objects. They've got grenades. I'm going down." With a salute-like wave he dashed for the inner stairs and jumped down them four at a time. On the main floor he found two complete divisions armed and ready with a simply mind-boggling array of weapons, supplied courtesy of the scarily inventive minds of Fred and George.  
  
The front few lines looked slightly pale and shaky under the dementors' proximity outside the doors, but still refused to let themselves falter. Tori was easy to fine, shouting out directions to her company. Harry ran over to her and asked, "How did so many get in here tonight?"  
  
She scowled darkly, "A mole called in an emergency alert, and per orders any one who could reported immediately. We had just figured it out when the attack started and activated lockdown, so we're stuck here for now." She glanced involuntarily at the doors as they rumbled with a distant explosion. "We tossed the traitor out to the dementors. They Kissed him immediately."  
  
Tori made a face to express exactly what she thought of that, then changed the subject. "You going to join us on this?" He nodded an affirmative, so she handed him one modified Uzi and a couple spare clips. "Give 'em hell. I'll be right behind you." He checked his weapon, then shouted out to the Aurors, "Wraith's already out there. Don't hit him, or he'll be mad."  
  
Everyone nodded and tensed in anticipation, then Tori contacted the balcony team. "Patroni, now!" On the Detection Parchment the dementors retreated from the doors under the focused assault, and then the doors burst open. Aurors streamed out with a roar, opening fire instantly on any thing that moved.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Ginny crept through the sparse foliage quietly, utilizing what little cover she could find to her advantage as she approached her target. Three Death Eaters stood five meters from her, simply watching the battle from a safe distance. Flashes of illumination lit up their masks sporadically, adding to the surrealism of the night.  
  
Why did they always seem to attack at night? Perhaps they felt better committing their atrocities surrounded by darkness. Ginny shook herself to focus again on her objective, analyzing critically. The three men stood fairly close together in a slightly triangular arrangement, postures casual and even relaxed. They weren't expecting anything, and she smiled grimly.  
  
Taking out a Spell Sphere and her wand, she waited for a particularly loud explosion to mask her voice as she armed it. Within seconds, she stood and threw it so it landed right behind the front man in the middle of the group.  
  
With a crack and flash of light, all three were down on the ground, Stunned. Ginny raced forward to disarm and bind them, then floated them back among cover. The whole process took less than 15 seconds, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief as she cautiously looked around.  
  
About 20 meters from her position she glimpsed Professor Snape before he disappeared back into the cloudy night. The flash from a gun illuminated Charlie's red hair for a moment, then he was gone. Ginny shrank back under cover, making sure she could not be seen before settling in to keep a tense watch on the battle and wait for orders.  
  
She prayed silently for Harry, caught in the middle of that mess out there, and for her family, that they would all come back home.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Jin the middle of the battlefield Wraith and Harry met up again as the Aurors repelled the initial wave of demons. As a united front they pushed back, weapons blazing, forcing the creatures to retreat farther and farther. One Auror, his face blackened from soot and blood, was especially proficient with one of the bazookas, firing streams of green fire into the demons to instantly vaporize them.  
  
The Aurors pushed forwards faster. 100 more yards and they would be outside the standing ward perimeter, enabling them to Apparate out. Their efforts redoubled with the goal and salvation in sight.  
  
But the dementors had other ideas. Drawn by the emotional fervor of battle, they avoided the few who retained the presence of mind for a Patronus and fell on the Aurors from behind like a sweeping Black Plague. Suddenly fighting a two front war with implacable foes, the Aurors faltered and their advance slowed, struggling for every step.  
  
Some tried to run back to the relative safety of the building, but were blocked by dementors and some demons smart enough to flank them. Several managed to conjure a Patronus, but with the combined influence of over a hundred dementors feeding on them, many more fought the subsuming depression and failed, staggering as their fighting edge wore down.  
  
Hungry, a few dementors swooped in with hoods lowered and Kissed five people before they could be driven back. More fell victim to the demons with this distraction, and the stench of the creatures soon mixed with the odor of red blood spilled with black on the field in equal measures.  
  
Wraith looked around and grimaced eloquently. If they stayed there, they would all die tonight. Furious, he whipped out his staff and bellowed, "Expecto Patronum!" Instantly the three golden animals charged, throwing dementors in every direction and creating a hold in the lines.  
  
Harry roared, "Back inside! Follow me!" He ran through the gap, using his parvellah and Uzi to discourage any demons from coming too close, and the surviving Aurors tailed him closely. Wraith brought up the rear, refusing to let anything by alive.  
  
Eventually they raced back inside the doors, and Wraith slammed them shut behind him with a final sounding clang. Panting and grateful for the reprieve, he looked around dismayed at the attrition they had suffered. Less than half of the Aurors had made it back, and most were nursing fairly serious wounds.  
  
Tori held a gash on her arm, blood running through her fingers as she barked, "Status report. What are our chances?" Someone did a quick head count. "There's 117 of us here, figure 80% casualties, and we're running out of ammunition." One man shouted out, "The cannon melted, several of the bazookas are out there still, and the trap sequences around the building aren't responding. Probably destroyed."  
  
A woman nearby muttered, "We're dead." Tori glared at her as if she had just uttered a grave personal insult. "No Leigh. We are not. Let's think about this and we'll make it through. I'm not giving up."  
  
As they organized and debated on a new plan of attack, Harry approached Wraith quietly. "We're drawing on the same pool of magical power, aren't we?" Wraith nodded. "That still remains the same." "So if we focus on something together, we could draw on more of that power at once and strengthen a spell, yes?" A wild idea began running through his head, and slowly he nodded. "Wales?"  
  
Eyes met and agreed, so together they slipped from the room and ran up the stairs towards the balconies, ignoring the sudden screams behind them. They burst through the door, startling the Aurors still on duty up there, and together they vaulted the rain to free fall over 50 feet to the ground below.  
  
Magic slowed their fall so they landed as soft as birds on the hard-packed earth, thankfully temporarily clear of Dark creatures. Within seconds though, demons rushed them. Those seconds were crucial, for Harry spun a shield with enough force to repel them, then both Wraith and Harry held the staff and concentrated together.  
  
The earth rumbled beneath their feet, then rolled and bucked like a storm- tossed sea. Some demons found themselves impaled on sharp spires of rock thrust from deep underground, while others tumbled into open crevasses and hurled squealing into the depths. Still the building itself remained untouched as the land rippled around it furiously.  
  
The dementors, however, were not daunted by the physical force of the earth and glided over the torn ground towards the two humans with one soul. Harry fought to focus through the fog and finish the spell, clinging to the staff for support. The ruby throbbed with power, and he tried to access a happy memory for a Patronus.  
  
Failing, shaken to his bones, Harry collapsed to his knees unwillingly as cold rose in his chest and screaming echoed faintly in his head. Then Wraith's gloved hand was on his shoulder as he murmured, "Stay with me here," before he shouted once again, "Expecto Patronum!" this time using their combined strength to conjure it.  
  
Harry breathed in a sigh of relief as the air turned warm again, and with help regained his feet. Looking around, he said, "Let's get them out of here before Voldemort decides to finish it." They reached the big doors and undid the Locking spells on them before shoving them open.  
  
Instantly they froze as a hundred wands trained at their faces, but someone got a good look and yelled, "It's all right!" The Aurors relaxed fractionally as wands lowered, but they were still tense, tired, and edgy. Wraith announced, "We have an opening if we move fast. Run to the end of the wards and watch for dementors. Go!"  
  
Clearly trusting him enough not to question, Aurors began to run out the doors in packs, guarding each other carefully. Harry glanced around, not hearing a familiar voice that he had expected. "Where's Tori?" A woman stopped and pointed somewhat despondently towards the staircase.  
  
A still body lay sprawled over the last two steps, clearly alive but just as clearly not going anywhere. Harry swallowed hard. "What happened?" he croaked. "A dementor came in while the doors were open and hid up the stairs. It snuck up on her, and by the time we could drive it away, it was too late."  
  
Wraith looked away with his eyes closed, muttering, "Aw, shit." Harry nodded. "George is not going to be happy."  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Remus skulked at the position Ron assigned him, trying to keep under cover as much as possible. Still, he had a great seat for the battle and especially the earthquake. Now he watched and waited, keen senses on the alert for the next move. In the distance, the doors flew open and small groups of Auror emerged, five at a time running while covering their backs.  
  
Ron's voice crackled through their communicators. "Go and give them cover just in case reinforcements show up. The rest of us are on the way." Remus tapped his watch twice in acknowledgement and started towards the Aurors, but had only taken a handful of steps when a crackling noise behind him made him spin, wand already out and a spell on his lips.  
  
Fortunately it was not more demons. Unfortunately, it was about a dozen Death Eaters with wands and weapons. Remus finished the spell and saw the red light send one flying, but the others were already casting their curses. With a lycanthrope's enhanced reflexes he dove and rolled back into the bushes he was using as cover, ducking as jest of light shot over his head.  
  
Popping up and casting three curses in quick succession, he gave himself enough breathing room to yell into the communicator, "Death Eaters! Backup needed now!" Quickly dodging another curse which set the bushes on fire around him, Remus scrambled away from the flames, shot off a hex then took off running in an erratic pattern over the uneven ground.  
  
Spells impacted the ground all around him, kicking up dirt, but none touched him yet. He chose not to push his luck and threw himself behind a huge mound of earth, watching the green light of the Killing Curse pass right through where his head had just been.  
  
Glancing around, Remus realized with a sinking heart that he was trapped. He had jumped into what basically amounted to a hole, and if he tried to move he'd be an easy target.  
  
The ground behind his head reverberated with the echo of running footsteps, and he gripped his wand tighter as he prepared himself. He may be dead, but he could be a very nasty corpse. He was going to take as many of them with him as possible. The wolf reared to the surface, snarling with the lust for blood and battle.  
  
Just as he was about to jump up to face them, a rapid succession of gunshots rang out, followed by pain-filled screams and the thud of falling bodies. Then Arabella was there, panting as she swept her Tommy gun around in a quick search, then dropped down and offered him her hand.  
  
Grinning he took it and got to his feet, then arched an eyebrow at her choice of weapon. She shrugged in return. "I liked it, so I kept it. Pretty handy." A crackled over the communicators jolted them back into action, as Charlie's voice reported in a strained voice, "Need help here. Got six right on top of me."  
  
Arabella glanced over where flashes of spells barely illuminated the clocked figures and started running, Remus at her heels. He spotted a dead Auror with a gun and scooped it up as he sprinted past, checking the clip. It was a Weasley modification with half a clip left; he snapped it in place and chambered a round on the run.  
  
Once in range, they both opened fire and raked the field, the staccato bursts mowing the Death Eaters down before they knew what was happening. Charlie was on the ground, and as they sprinted to him he gave them a painfully strained smile. "Thanks."  
  
Arabella instantly dropped to her knees beside him, examining his leg which was bleeding everywhere. He had his fingers buried in his thigh, and she realized he was pinching off the artery to keep from bleeding to death. "What happened?" she asked urgently as she used her wand to seal off the blood vessel then wrap his thigh tightly with bandages.  
  
Charlie winced briefly as the bandages tightened. "Took me by surprise, only got one down before one shot a curse that should have taken my leg off. It only grazed me, but it was enough." He tested his leg, flexing his foot back and forth. "Thanks for that." He examined his bandages one last time, then fished around in his vest and handed Remus another clip.  
  
"Here, you're gonna need this. I'm heading back." The two professors nodded, and with a pop Charlie was gone again. They turned back to the main fight and rushed to rejoin the Order, who were currently surrounding the path for the Aurors to take out past the wards. But at the same time more Death Eaters were appearing all over the field, opening fire on the forces of Light.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Wraith snarled as he dodged the Killing Curse and saw it narrowly miss hitting an Auror running for the exit point. Harry joined the Order in covering their retreat, defending the exit point but unable to move from their positions. Wraith was under no such restraints, ignoring his fatigue as he pulled his sword and his wand, drawing the attention of several black cloaked figures to him.  
  
Digging deeper into his resources, he charged the Death Eaters with preternatural speed while casting a Stunning spell over his shoulder, which hit two Death Eaters who hadn't even noticed him. He leapt in the air to avoid a panicked curse, then landed and sliced one in half from crown to waist. The razor-sharp blade passed through with little resistance, and the body peeled apart in two directions to slump in a bloody mess.  
  
Wraith dismissed it immediately as he turned to his next opponent, missing the look on Harry's face, and dispatched him easily with a sweep of his sword. He shouted a curse which shot over McGonagall's head and threw the Death Eater who had been sneaking up behind her to the ground with a hole in his chest.  
  
Another group of Aurors came running out, spells flying as they dashed along the torn ground towards the Order and their departure point. The Death Eaters started to converge on the building, obviously hoping to finish those off inside while they were trapped. The Order couldn't move, could only watch helplessly and shoot some curses in their direction, but they were out of range and the Order was stretched thin as it was.  
  
The remaining Aurors saw them coming and fought back ferociously like a cornered animal. But with the last few hours of constant anxiety and adrenaline rushing through their systems, they were already tired and worn down, while the Death Eaters were fresh and energized.  
  
Some of the Order started running to give the Dark forces a two-front war, but Wraith bellowed at them, "No! Stay where you are! I'll take care of it!" They stumbled to a halt as the War Mage whipped his wand and roared, "Pyros Solem!"  
  
A white-hot jet of flame shot out and enveloped the Death Eaters gathered at the doors, and seconds later they were falling to the ground, writhing and screaming in hideous agony as their flesh was consumed by fire. Wraith let a predatory grin cross his lips as he turned back to the main force still assaulting the Order and Aurors.  
  
Before he could start a new attack, Voldemort stepped forward out of the ranks with cat-like eyes glowing crimson. He bared his own teeth in a horrible smile and called out, "Wraith, my elusive opponent. I had been a while since we last met." Wraith glowered at him. "Not long enough, you mutated son of a bitch." The Dark Lord scowled.  
  
"Enough. Resistance is futile. Surrender now." Wraith scoffed, "Or else what? You'll bore me to death with your pompous pontifications?" That earned him an icy glare. "Or else every one of you will die tonight."  
  
Wraith sneered at him, the blood spattering his face giving him a feral cast to match the wild gleam in his eye. "I have an offer for you," he returned. "Get your arses out of here, now, and I'll refrain from killing all your forces tonight. Refuse, and this place will swim in your blood. I swear it."  
  
Voldemort actually threw his head back and laughed, a high cold screech that rendered the night air. "Don't toy with me, boy. You have no idea what you are facing." "Oh really? Then please, don't enlighten me. I like surprises." During this whole interlude, the Aurors kept coming and group after group transported out to safety even while suffering occasional losses. The Order was also sustaining casualties, with many wounded severely enough to have to retreat back to Hogwarts.  
  
Wraith caught a glimpse of green light, then Arabella fell to the ground, unmoving. Remus was immediately beside her, calling her name as he gently shook her, but she wasn't responding and would never. A Death Eater took advantage of the distraction to cast the Cruciatus on Remus, but accustomed as he was to the pain of monthly wolf transformations, he simply gritted his teeth, aimed his Uzi and squeezed the trigger. Three Death Eaters jerked as blood splashed and they dropped, releasing the curse.  
  
Suddenly Voldemort thrust a hand out to the side, and with a small yelp of surprise Harry was yanked out of his position to fly over and land roughly at this Dark Lord's feet in a heap. Instantaneously a long fingered hand was wrapped around his neck while a foot stomped between his shoulders to keep him on the ground. Voldemort glared at Wraith, ignoring the yells from the Order as he tightened his grip and Harry began to choke.  
  
"How about this surprise? I know the two of you are connected somehow. Will you really let him die?" Voldemort's eyes gleamed fiercely as the teen in his grasp began to turn blue. "What would happen to you then, I wonder?" He yanked upwards slightly, and Harry winced as his neck strained and popped under the pressure.  
  
Wraith thought frantically, knowing that Voldemort could block his spells long enough to break Harry's neck. What would happen to him then? Before he could think of anything constructive, a spell hit the Dark Lord from behind and knocked him off balance, his hand loosening for a crucial second. It was enough.  
  
Harry twisted around a bit and arched his back so his feet came up and kicked Voldemort from behind. The creature pitched forward and Harry reversed momentum to throw himself unsteadily to his feet. The Dark Lord whirled on him, and the teen whipped his head down and around so that his hair, knotted back in a heavy braid, flew around and clubbed Voldemort in the face. He stumbled back with blood streaming from his flat nose and mouth.  
  
Harry pulled a knife and threw it, and it lodged in Voldemort's shoulder. The Dark Lord looked from the knife embedded in his flesh to a furious Harry, who rasped menacingly, "Get out."  
  
Voldemort narrowed his eyes, wrenched the knife out and threw it with lightning speed back at Harry, who snatched it out of the air easily. Then he disappeared with a pop, and the Death Eaters soon followed, but not before they launched a few grenades and mines to blew up the battle-scarred remains of the Auror headquarters. Fortunately all the survivors had escaped.  
  
The Order and the last few Aurors ducked away from the explosion, and after the debris settled they surveyed the battlefield wearily, noting the scattered bodies of both comrades and enemies. Wraith shook his head as he approached. "Let's go before they decide to return. He's still got more demons."  
  
Nobody protested, and within seconds they all disappeared, leaving a draw. Nobody really won this one this time, but the Light had lost more. Over the now-silent and bloodied battlefield, a cold drizzle began to fall, the puddles gleaming red. 


	27. Ashwinder and Anger Management

A/N: Longer author's note at the bottom. Contains spoilers for Book 5. But it's something that I need to explain. Oh, and this chapter is likely to make you very mad. If you thought the last one was not good to read right after eating, I warn you not to consume anything while reading this one. "Aliens" gives me too much inspiration. This is going to be getting darker for a while, just like the real series. I like flames, so if you feel like sending one along, feel free. Extra points for those who recognize what the title means and what I'm referring to.  
  
Side note: Book 5 is roughly 121,000 words, while this monstrosity is currently around 140,000 (unfinished). I'm completely nuts. If you've made it this far, keep going. Please stick with me.  
  
Disclaimer: Quote is not mine. HP is not mine. Belongs to the incomparable JK Rowling,, who some people think I am and others think copied parts of my story. Both are untrue (to my knowledge! *winks*). I still like the real ones better. Tori Black was mine, but I killed her off and now her inspiration has disowned me as a friend and human being and is plotting my death. Bring it on.  
  
Chapter 27  
  
Harry stood at the window watching the sun rise, the rays casting his face a ghastly blood red. *Blood has been spilled this night,* he thought wearily, then turned back to the room and the matter at hand. Wraith was pacing opposite him, and what was left of the Order watched them both somnolently.  
  
"Were you deliberately trying to reach me?" Harry asked bluntly, and Wraith nodded with a sidelong glance. "I take it you didn't receive well." Harry snorted. "I could barely feel it, even when you had that bloody sword stuck in you. When I was right next to you I could barely hear anything."  
  
Wraith continued pacing agitatedly. "Damn it," he fumed, "it's not enough that Voldemort basically stampeded over us this time. This should be impossible." Flitwick shook his head in confusion. "I'm lost. What's going on, and what's impossible?"  
  
Wraith sighed. "I'm the real Harry Potter. He," here he gestured at Harry across the room, "is my clone, a magical extension of me. Basically I'm in two places at once; two bodies sharing one soul. He can sense what is happening to me, and vice versa, and when we rejoin I retain both sets of memories. But now," he shook his head with a little growl, "now we are having problems sensing each other. We're not communicating as we should, which is technically impossible since everything passes through a soul bond."  
  
Harry watched him closely as Wraith stalked around the room, speaking in a quieter voice. "That's not the worst of it though. Harry here sometimes forgets he's the clone, and I forget I'm Harry at times."  
  
Ron gaped at him. "How can you forget who you really are?" Wraith shrugged. "I've caught myself subconsciously referring to myself as Wraith, not Harry. Even when it was just one of me. Nearly signed the last Transfiguration test that way." McGonagall raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.  
  
Hermione spoke up quietly. "You did mention on the train that whenever you are Wraith, it's like a whole other personality." She shifted her gaze between the two with some hesitancy in her eyes, then sighed. "You've developed two dominant and separate personalities. Harry," she pointed at the corresponding person," is the student, the prankster, the Quidditch player, and a fairly normal guy. Or as normal as he ever gets," she added with a quirky smile as Ron snorted.  
  
"Wraith, on the other hand, is the warrior and the loner, the War Mage and Phoenix Lord with all the power behind those titles and the courage and control to use it." Hermione dropped her hand to her lap and regarded them seriously with concern radiating from her entire posture. "You used to be both these people integrated, but now . . ." she paused, then glanced warily at Wraith. "For example, why do you keep up the disguise when it's no longer needed?"  
  
"Thank you for the psychoanalysis, Dr. Granger," Wraith said sarcastically, and she looked vaguely hurt. Before anyone else could react, Ron shot him a glare. "Shut up. She's our friend." He shook his head. "I didn't expect you to be this nasty this morning." Wraith favored him with a challenging glare. "Oh really? How did you expect me to be after last night's workout?"  
  
Ron met his challenge. "What was that you said over the summer? Exercise releases endorphins, endorphins make you happy, and happy people don't kill people. Was that it?" Wraith stared right back at him as he said flatly, "I wasn't happy."  
  
"And this is exactly what Hermione's talking about." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache. "I mean, look at last night. I've never killed a human being before, on purpose at least, but last night you were setting them on fire and slicing them to shreds. I can handle the demons, but Death Eaters . . . they may be scum, but they're still human. Last night . . .frankly, it sickened me, and even more that you seemed to enjoy it."  
  
He continued to pace the room, running a hand absentmindedly over his face repeatedly. His voice was unusually quiet. "I see this and I have to wonder . . . which of us is the real one?" he gestured jerkily, agitation fairly shouting from his body language. "Harry would never do that, kill a living being and enjoy it. But . . . really, you're not Harry . . . and neither am I." He paused. "At first we thought I was the one changing, but I think . . . maybe it's you."  
  
Dead silence enveloped the room as Wraith and Harry stared at each other in a silent battle of wills. Snape broke the tension with an uncomplimentary snort. "So we have two of you running around with personality disorders and mental problems. That explains so much." Quickly he became the target for twin icy glares, but he retained his sneer unfazed. Wraith snapped back, "Do not interrupt me when I'm talking to myself."  
  
Dumbledore decided that intervention was necessary. "Harry, both of you, what happens when you rejoin? Do the personalities remain separate?" Harry glanced at his double. "Well, we haven't had any troubles with that so far, but the problem is escalating, so I don't know if that will remain so." Dumbledore suggested gently, "Maybe you should try it."  
  
Wraith sighed as he dropped his disguise so he became Harry again, then they stepped toward each other and with a little magical interference blurring the two forms, they became one Harry again. He stood there perfectly still with his eyes closed for several long moments, then exhaled heavily as he glanced around at the slightly worried faces. "It took me a bit longer than normal to reconcile the two memories, but I don't have any extra voices hovering around in the back of my consciousness," he assured them.  
  
Shaking his head, he brushed some hair out of his eyes and said, "I'm not going to conjure up the clone again unless I really need to. It's just getting way too complicated." As Harry flopped down in his seat, he muttered, "I wish I could talk to Eva." Ginny overheard him and glanced over curiously. "Why can't you?" Harry frowned, "Yet another problem. Our link is blocked, and I can't reach her. It's like getting the busy signal on the telephone."  
  
He yawned widely, hiding it unsuccessfully behind his hand. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get some sleep." Dumbledore waved him off and the informal meeting came to an end.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Hermione found Ron later that day in the greenhouse, tending to their thriving and happy rhys plant. He let the plant cuddle his finger, leaves glowing brightly as he watered the soil around the base. She smiled. "It really does like you. I think we'll receive full marks for this." Her boyfriend just nodded distractedly, mind clearly elsewhere at the moment, and she sighed a little bit.  
  
"How's your family doing? I haven't seen any of them since this morning." Ron huffed as he hoisted the bag of manure up on the table. "Well, we're intact as least. Charlie's going to have a limp for the rest of his life from that curse." Hermione nodded. "I helped treat him in the Hospital Wing. He actually pinched off his own femoral artery to keep from bleeding to death."  
  
Ron gave a little snort. "He's absolutely insane, but I love him anyways. The twins, well . . . Tori was their trainer, and I think George had something going with her. They're taking it pretty hard, especially since she was Kissed before she died. George went back to the store this morning and is throwing himself into his work more than ever."  
  
He watered the plant carefully as he spoke. "Bill was hit by the Cruciatus briefly and picked up a few new scars, but he's fine. Mum and Dad have several new gray hairs each, and she's still a bit mad at me for sending Ginny in." Hermione frowned at that. "Why? Ginny performed wonderfully Took out her three targets, then six more as I understand."  
  
Ron wrinkled his nose, but whether it was from his mum or the occasional whiff of perfumes from the storeroom was uncertain. "Yeah, but she came back injured. Some hex marks and a big slash on her shoulder from a graze by a Severing charm. Mum was having kittens over my shoulder the entire time, then she turned and yelled at me for putting Ginny, 'her precious baby girl,' in danger."  
  
He shook his head wearily. "She puts herself in danger with no help from me, and if she had heard Mum calling her a baby she'd . . . well, you could sell tickets to that." Hermione nodded. "I know, and you did what needed to be done. Ginny's the best at what she does, and even Snape's been giving her a few pointers, wrapped in insults of course."  
  
As if speaking of her conjured her like a genie, Ginny suddenly dashed into the greenhouse full tilt, nearly colliding with Hermione as she skidded to a halt. "Ron," she panted, "does Sprout have any prepared rhys on hand?" Frowning, her brother nodded. "Yeah. She demonstrated it for us in class. Why?"  
  
Ginny regained her breath and explained, talking as fast as Hermione when excited and losing her breath again. "I've been using the new security devices that the twins gave me, so I overheard that some of them had received letters from theirs parents that were kind of strange, and they kept talking in whispers but I heard them planning a meeting tomorrow in one of the dungeons."  
  
She paused to heave in much needed air to continue speaking. "Most are Death Eaters or leaning that way, so I need to get in there to see what they're planning, but they've got their own Security charms in place that detect most spying methods including Invisibility charms or cloaks, but they aren't calibrated for rhys because it's rare, and that's the most effective, so I need some now and I need your help to get it."  
  
Ron took a moment to assimilate her rapid babble then glanced at Hermione with a raised eyebrow, earning a shrug in return. "Dumbledore did say any means possible." He gestured at his girlfriend." She's better at breaking and entering than I am."  
  
Hermione quirked a little smile, then led Ginny over to Professor Sprout's office in the next greenhouse with wand drawn to start undoing the Locking charms on it. Ron smiled and went back to work, ignoring them so that if questioned later, he could honestly say he never saw a thing.  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Safely concealed by the magical properties of the rhys, Ginny crept quietly through the dungeons following a pair of sixth year Slytherin Death Eaters. They had called a meeting together, and she was determined to hear exactly what they were planning. Twisting their way through stone labyrinths, they stopped at a moldy section of blank wall and muttered a password, and with a muted groan the wall slid aside.  
  
The Slytherins entered, Ginny tailing right on their heels unnoticed. The well-adorned room was already mostly full, and she busied herself for the next few minutes finding a free corner to stand in without being bumped into and discovered. Soon enough, one seventh year she tentatively identified as Steve Foloth called for everyone's attention.  
  
"Listen up. I know most of you heard from your parents about last night's attack. This afternoon I received official orders for us." A low hum of speculative conversation grew until he scowled and tapped his foot sharply on the stone floor.  
  
"The Aurors have been carrying new weapons for a while, and the search in the aftermath of the destruction of DMLE Headquarters revealed their supplier." He drew in a deep breath, relishing the suspense the pause built. "Fred and George Weasley."  
  
Ginny stifled a gasp as a loud buzz of comments sprang from that pronouncement. Foloth seemed pleased at being the one to cause such a ruckus. "Our orders: A few of us know the secret passages out to Hogsmeade. Our Master recovered some unused munitions from the field and sent them to us. We are to plant them around the joke shop and conceal them, then wait for the signal to set them off. We have one week, and then the Weasley twins are in bloody bits along with their inventions."  
  
A ragged cheer answered his enthusiasm, but Ginny simply felt sick. She had to warn the twins and the Order. She began to carefully make her way towards the door when Foloth suddenly asked, "Who here has the most powerful control over the Imperius?" Perhaps half a dozen hands went up including Malfoy's, and Foloth examined them critically with a slight sneer on his face. Ginny decided it would be prudent to stick around for a while longer.  
  
"You," he pointed at a fellow seventh year, a girl with short-cropped auburn hair, "have a special assignment. Put the Imperius on a house elf and have it deposit this poison," he held up a small vial of clear liquid, "into Dumbledore's candy dish. The old fool won't know what hit him."  
  
Several Slytherins smirked venomously, and if anything Ginny felt even worse. It was like a dark aura enveloped the room to make her physically sick; she wanted, no, needed to leave immediately.  
  
Not as careful as before with her need to get out of that room, Ginny stumbled towards the door around the milling Slytherins. Unfortunately she had to wait until another decided to leave, because the door opening unexpectedly would be a dead giveaway that someone was not supposed to be there. Standing there trying to control nervous fidgets, by the time two girls decided it was time to head back Ginny was literally itching to run out of there.  
  
Once out in the corridor she bolted, glad she had the foresight to wear only socks on her feet so that she was nearly soundless. Ron on the other hand probably wouldn't be too happy with her, since his freshly laundered socks were now covered with dirt and muck from the dungeons. Only when she was several floors up and on the opposite side of the castle did she stop, panting as she leaned against the frame of portrait.  
  
The horrifying information she had learned burned in her brain, and she knew that she had to tell Dumbldore immediately if they were going to stop anything. Having a fixed course of action let her prioritize. Using her handkerchief, she rubbed off the small patch of rhys that kept her invisible, straightened her appearance and settled her breathing.  
  
Ginny turned to head down the corridor, but a pair of strong arms grabbed her and spun her back into the wall. Startled, she looked up into the dark brown eyes of Steve Foloth leering back at her. "Pretty little thing like yourself shouldn't wander the castle so late at night by yourself. You never know what evil lurks in these corridors."  
  
"I bet you're well acquainted with many of them," she retorted, nearly spitting fire. "Now get your hands off me." His smirk only grew and he leaned in closer, letting his breath waft over her cheeks. "Oh, but it's my duty as a Prefect to teach the younger students the rules. Right now you need a lesson."  
  
His hands shifted on her arms, obviously heading elsewhere, but Ginny wrenched free, reared back and punched as hard as she could. Her fist impacted his jaw, and she distinctly heard a crack as the bone broke under the force of the blow. As his head whipped backwards, she growled, "No. Now it's my turn to teach. Rule number one: don't touch me."  
  
She balled her other fist and delivered a quick one-two to his solar plexus. "Rule number two: don't piss me off." Foloth had doubled over winded with both arms wrapped around his middle, so Ginny brought her knee up to click his teeth together with a sharp blow to the chin. With a muffled cry of pain he dropped to the floor. "Rule number three: don't mess with my family."  
  
Vindictively she delivered a kick to his ribs hard enough to crack a couple, and he moaned pitifully, curling up in a fetal position protectively. Ginny let a wicked grin cross her lips as she watched him, then casually said, "and rule number four: do obey all other rules."  
  
Blowing out a breath, she cast a quick Memory charm on him so that he wouldn't remember the incident, but as she walked away she made sure to stomp one foot down on his crotch. His eyes crossed and began watering fiercely as a strangled sound rasped from his throat, and he rolled into a very tight ball with hands trying to protect and comfort the damaged goods.  
  
Smirking to herself, Ginny walked quickly down the corridor and headed straight for the Headmaster's office. Two corridors away, she heard running feet behind her, and instinctively she drew her wand and quickly flattened herself into the shadows by a statue. Two younger girls from Hufflepuff ran past and she watched as they disappeared around the far corner.  
  
Peeking out to se if the coast was clear, she pocketed her wand again and came out from her hiding place, reflecting that she really was getting paranoid, if understandably so. Shaking her head, Ginny started once again down the corridor, but a rasp of cloth on wood made her spin back around, hand scrabbling for her wand. It was yanked out of her grasp, and she looked up at her attacker.  
  
Malfoy stood there, wand trained on her as he clucked disapprovingly. "Now now little Weasel, you don't think we'd let you get away with that?" Ginny glared at him as she asked, "Get away with what? And give me back my wand. Now." He smirked. "Don't play dumb with me. Or are you playing?" He raked his eyes over her in a way that made her skin crawl. "I can see why Foloth wanted to teach you a lesson."  
  
She scowled and retorted, "And that's why I had to teach him one. Now give me back my wand and bugger off, ferret boy." He shook his head. "I don't think so. You know a little too much for me to just let you walk away."  
  
He raised both wands, but as she was preparing to spring at him they both heard echoing footsteps coming their direction, as well as a "meow." Filch and Mrs. Norris. Malfoy narrowed his eyes and whispered harshly, "We'll finish this later, but for now . . . Obliviate!"  
  
***********************************************************  
  
After the rest of the school learned about the attack via the Daily Prophet, more and more students were expressing concern that if the Dark forces could destroy one of the most heavily guarded departments in the Ministry, what chance did Hogwarts have? More than one Common Room fire burned late into the night as the occupants discussed and theorized and worried themselves.  
  
Finally Dumbledore felt the need to address the issues one night after dinner and answered as many questions as he could about their safety. His comforting presence seemed to calm the rising panic that stifled many, even though his answers were not always what they wanted to hear.  
  
In the end he simply said, "There is no place truly safe any more as long as Voldemort is allowed to run free. However, Hogwarts is safer than most, not because of her many wards and defenses, but simply because I know that for many of you this is your home. We will not let our home be overtaken and destroyed without a fight. Voldemort may inspire fear, but he also feels it when he thinks of who is here, ready to oppose him."  
  
Several people gazed significantly at the headmaster and at Harry, who was picking at his napkin with his fork and not saying a word or meeting any eyes.  
  
The next two weeks passes almost without incident in Hogwarts, although outside both forces were gearing up for the next major assault. Unfortunately, demons are much easier to replace than Aurors, and harder to kill to boot.  
  
But the spies reported only routine movements at the Ministry and so forth, and Ginny hadn't found anything on the Slytherin Death Eaters to report besides the fact that they were looking particularly smug lately, and Foloth was in the Hospital Wing for two days. Still, Harry went through the motions of his routine unable to shake the feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong.  
  
That feeling culminated one Wednesday morning when a third year girl ran into the Great Hall at breakfast shrieking with terror. Professor McGonagall shot up from her seat and hustled over to her, trying to calm her enough to be coherent. Finally the girl sobbed out, "Dead . . . she's dead . . .up on the second floor loo . . . she's dead!!"  
  
McGonagall shushed her a bit. "Do you mean Moaning Myrtle? She's been dead for fifty years." The third year stamped her foot furiously, tears spilling down her front. "No! Not the ghost! There's a dead body up there right now! She's been murdered!" McGonagall paled, and Harry threw a quick glance across the table to Ron and Hermione, then all three followed their Head of House to the infamous corridor.  
  
Ron was the first to spot it. Just like that Halloween in second year, foot high letters in blood scrawled across the wall. "ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE." The sight of those words filled Harry with foreboding, and he strode over to the lavatory door and threw it open. The sight immediately made him sick. Behind him he vaguely registered Ron's anguished groans through the roaring in his ears.  
  
Ginny lay sprawled on the wet floor, blank eyes staring at the ceiling with mouth open and features slack. Her school uniform was shredded, hanging off her in ragged pieces and mattered with her blood. Red streaks splashed over the walls and floor testified to the unimaginable torture they much have inflicted on her.  
  
Harry swallowed hard as he approached slowly, aware of the gathered professors and students stunned into silence behind him at the door. He knelt down by her side and gently touched her hair, spread over the floor in tangled knots but still Weasley red and silky. He passed a hand over her face, closing her eyes and mouth to give her a semblance of peace.  
  
Glancing away, he saw the messages scribbled on a couple of the mirrors. "Little Weasel stuck her nose where it didn't belong." "But who will notice if they lose one of their brood? They have extras." The next one over was more personal. "Was she saving herself for you, Potter? Too bad. She was good."  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden hot tears, rage building dangerously high within him and aching for violent release. She didn't deserve this. No one did. And when he found out exactly who did this (and he had a pretty good idea who), he swore that he would rip them apart slowly and painfully.  
  
Ron knelt on the floor just inside the doorway, face covered by his hands but tears leaking through as he suppressed sobs. Hermione knelt by Ron and wrapped her arms around him, cradling him to her as he shook violently. Harry's heart wrenched for his friend's pain, for the whole family. He knew what it was like to lose Sirius, but a sister in such a gruesome fashion?  
  
Somebody had to pay, and instinctively he looked for Dumbledore, expecting to see him standing beside McGonagall with fury radiating from him. But he wasn't there. Harry got to his feet and rushed to the door, scanning the corridor before whirling on McGonagall. "Where's Dumbledore?" he demanded, and her eyes grew wide as she realized the Headmaster was not present.  
  
Dread coiling in his stomach, he pushed past the professors and sprinted down the corridor at full speed for Dumbledore's office. Pounding footsteps behind him let him know that at least two other people were following him. Snape and Remus were right behind him as Harry fairly threw himself up the spiraling stairs and burst into the large office, where he skidded to a halt. Snape winced, not from colliding with Remus as the lycanthrope also drew up short, and muttered almost despairingly, "Oh God, Albus."  
  
Albus Dumbledore sat upright at his desk, but the twinkling blue eyes were glazed over in death and fixed on the trio staring back at the body. His ancient face was pale as marble, and wrinkled hands were clenched into withered claws atop the desk. From his gaping mouth dripped a thick black ichor that ran down his silver beard in long dark streaks.  
  
In front of his desk lay a crumpled figure in a pool of dark blood and lemon drops. Harry recognized one mustard yellow sock and groaned, "Dobby!" The house elf's eyes were wide and filled with tears of shame to mix with the blood. He clutched the knife he had used to cut his own throat in one scrawny hand, a house elf's ultimate penance.  
  
Harry buried his face in his hands and staggered back out to sit heavily on one of the stairs. Remus placed a hand on his head as if to lend them both strength, and Snape stood perfectly still with fists clenched furiously, face an impassive mask with strangely glittering eyes.  
  
The day was about to get worse.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Fred Weasley whistled a bit as he opened up Weasley Wizard Wheezes at number 93 in Diagon Alley for the day. While the joke business suffered with the economy, it was their weapons work with the Ministry and the Order that really kept the bills paid and shops opened. They had talked about closing the Hogsmeade store temporarily, but the extra lab space was needed and besides, it felt like giving in. Weasleys never give in, not while their hair is still red and they have a fighting chance.  
  
He wandered back to the cash register to make sure it was set and stocked, ran a practiced eye over the shelves in an inventory check, then headed for their lab. Another prank was brewing, right alongside two experimental contraptions that may turn out to be deadly if only they could perfect the spell. So far it wasn't going so well, as the purple-scorched walls testified to.  
  
Right now it could only give you orange boils in some pretty interesting places, as well as make your nose hair grow long and purple. How that happened, Fred had no idea, but thought that if the war ended before he could work it out, he could make a different sort of killing with it in the store.  
  
Fred checked the security measures just in case anyone had been nosey overnight, but he had only caught a couple of cockroaches in the Stun Trap. Satisfied, he glanced at the clock and walked back out front to officially open the store for business.  
  
Just as he was turning the little sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN, he caught a glimpse of movement outside. Instinctively Fred looked up to see a man across the street aiming a tube right at him, fingering a button. His first thought was, "Hey, that looks like one of mine." Then his mind caught up, and with wide horrified eyes he watched the man punch the button twice.  
  
Statistically "oh shit" are the most popular last words spoken by people about to die very violent deaths, and Fred Weasley joined this numerical calculation just before his entire world blew up in an explosion that rocked Diagon Alley to its foundations.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
George Weasley sat in the back of their Hogsmeade store sipping a butterbeer as he tested a new weapon, inspiration courtesy of Harry the human arsenal. He smiled as a Bludger shook under the restraints, then he backed away as he released the bindings and placed a Shield charm in front of him. The Bludger flew up then pelted forward across the room before it exploded, flinging shrapnel in all directions.  
  
The shield protected George until it settled, and then he examined the remains with a critically appraising eye. The pieces were sharp and jagged, and the blast radius promised to exceed that of their testing room. Tori would have been pleased.  
  
Suddenly the good cheer at the success of the Ballistic Bludgers fell short as melancholy enveloped him. He missed Tori horribly; her sense of humor, dedication, fiery spirit, and passion for life, not to mention her enthusiastic kisses.  
  
He smiled sadly at the memories, willing thoughts of other Kisses out of his head, as he wandered back to the front to open the store carrying his butterbeer, drinking deeply and almost hoping it was something stronger, like firewhiskey.  
  
Just as he was turning the little sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN, he felt something, as if his world and his soul had just been violently torn in half. He staggered, incomplete for the first time in his entire life, instantly knowing the truth that brought tears to his eyes. Half of him was missing. Fred was gone.  
  
He didn't have long to mourn before a familiar rushing sound filled his ears, one he recognized from many hours working with it in the lab. Sighing, George closed his eyes as fire erupted and enveloped the whole shop in an instant. The air superheated and imploded, bringing the whole store down in flaming ruins with a crash that echoed up to Hogwarts.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Percy glanced up from his filing deep in the offices of the Ministry as he felt a slight shudder run through the floor, and an ink bottle rattled a bit before it fell and splattered. Frowning, he waved his wand to clean it up then straightened his parchments before rising to investigate. The Ministry was supposed to be the safest place in the wizarding world, next to Hogwarts, but unless the Department of Experimental Charms managed to blow up their whole floor a la Fred and George, something was seriously wrong.  
  
He peeked out into the corridor and noticed most of the other occupants of the floor doing the same with confusion. One man who Percy only knew as Brisby noticed him, shrugged and popped back into his office. Percy considered doing the same, but a definite unease led him to leave his office and head toward the lift.  
  
He punched the button and entered the rattling gold cage to ascend to the main floor. Security there would know more about whatever that was than other floors. Suddenly over the racket of the lift Percy heard a sound like the doors opening several floors up, so he glanced towards the ceiling curiously.  
  
He froze, and then with a roaring rushing noise the pure green fireball enveloped the lift and vaporized it in an instant. Undeterred, it continued its destructive path downwards, blasting open the doors on each floor and incinerating the first 10 feet in each corridor.  
  
Meanwhile on the main floor, the security personnel lay dead around their station as the first dozen demons cavorted past and headed for the offices. Right behind them were two dozen Death Eaters with wands drawn. One, before he sealed the main entrance to the Ministry, glanced back and could just make out the smoke rising from Diagon Alley three blocks away.  
  
Smiling wickedly, Lucius Malfoy ducked inside and stalked towards the remaining operational lift, fingering his wand as he headed for the deepest level, the Minister's office.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Harry barely heard the distant explosion from Hogsmeade, intent as he was on his destination and the rage boiling black inside him. Ron stalked next to him, face a furious red with glaring blue eyes as he twirled his wand purposefully. They had a job to do.  
  
The professors had watched them go without comment, pain reflected in their own eyes, and Hermione had simply brushed Ron's shoulder and whispered, "Don't do anything you might regret," but hadn't stopped either of them. The teens were fairly running towards the dungeons, feet recalling the path to the Slytherin Common Room from Christmas second year.  
  
Stopping outside the blank section of wall, Harry hissed, "Open," in Parseltongue and the door obligingly slid open. Bursting in, Ron trained his wand at the confused pack of younger students in the Common Room, demanding harshly, "Where are they?" They looked startled to see a lone Gryffindor invading their sanctuary, but it quickly turned to terror when Harry followed him in, nearly glowing with rage.  
  
"W-where's w-who?" a plucky third year stammered, cowering back as Ron's wand pointed in his direction. "The Death Eaters. We know the older students are. Now where are they?" he snarled.  
  
A first year girl burst into tears. "T-they t-told us not to t-tell!" she wailed. "T-they left!" she was promptly subject to a dozen hands clamping over her mouth as her classmates shushed her.  
  
Harry drew his wand. "Tell us, or I will put you under the Imperius and make you tell." This was said in a perfectly flat monotone that crawled with sinister malice. A small brown-haired second year boy caved. "They just left," he muttered. "They were heading for the old Potions classroom two floors down. They have Portkeys down there to leave Hogwarts."  
  
Ron turned without a word and sprinted out the door, but Harry glared at them all for several long seconds. "I'll have you know," he said coldly, "that your classmates have just murdered three people. You have been aiding them, and are therefore partially responsible." He held their pale-faced attention as he paused, fingers flexing on his wand. "Someone else will determine punishment."  
  
Satisfied that they were sufficiently scared witless, he turned and followed Ron at top speed, hoping to catch at least a couple of the murdering scum. He literally saw red as he caught up with his friend as they flew down the stairs, fury burning brightly in their hearts. Seeing a corner of a robe disappear into one of the deep abandoned classrooms, they doubled their speed and burst through the door.  
  
Already most of them were gone, for only ten people were left in the room clutching their Portkeys and counting down. Harry fired off a flurry of spells that destroyed their Portkeys, and cursing the Death Eaters dropped the melting bits of bits of junk from their burned hands. Scanning quickly, Ron cursed under his breath when he realized Draco Malfoy and his goons had already made good their escape.  
  
Then he fired off a Disarming spell as the remainder all dove for their wands. Harry went for a more direct approach and froze them all in their places, then stalked forward and glared into their eyes in turn. "Listen up you filth," Ron growled as Harry continued stalking around the room. "You've crossed the line and managed to piss off not only me, but also Harry here."  
  
Harry snarled, "You picked the wrong people to mess with." He shot a Severing charm at a seventh year's hand, and if he hadn't been frozen in place her would have screamed in agony as his fingers all fell off, lopped off cleanly and spurting blood. "The professors know we're here and don't care." He glanced around, then commented, "You picked a perfect place."  
  
He bared his teeth in a hideous grin. "Down here, no one will hear you scream." Pointing his wand at another Death Eater, he incanted venomously, "Crucio!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: On the night on June 20th, 2003, I was not among the masses gathered outside the major bookstores eagerly awaiting the release of the much- anticipated Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Instead, after work I drove by one such gathered hoard with a contemptuous sneer worthy of Snape and drove to my writing spot, where I proceeded to scribble out this chapter even though I was already planning on sitting on it for at least a week or two for rewrites and to let everything settle after such a momentous night.  
  
The next day, in a completely unexpected twist of fate, I picked up a copy of Book 5 and, in a cataclysmic failure of self-control, spent 20 hours reading it, stopping many times for real life intrusions and to release fits of anger. That book made me so mad!! Anyway, then I had to digest it, let settle, then pick it apart by rereading it four more times over the next week.  
  
So now that that's settled, I must say I never thought that Book 5 would help my story any. But I was pleasantly surprised, not only for what I already have posted but also for what I have in the works. I never thought I would be happy about killing Sirius off, but now I find I was only about 2 months off on my timing. Although I did scar some people irrevocably, since their comfort from my fic was the fact that it wasn't real and their belief that JKR would never go that route. Nope, she took a different one, but same destination. Maybe that accidental inspiration wasn't so accidental. I am a Legilimens! Or at least a psycho with acutely accurate ESP.  
  
Since it is A/U and I'm up to sixth year, I will continue this story as I initially planned it before OoTP was released, which, among the concepts proven obviously wrong (which I'm actually happy about), happens to contain some parallels to Book 5 but is the product of my imagination. I have the dated outlines to prove it. Hopefully many things will continue to surprise you; I am working hard to keep this fairly original despite the fact that it is fanfiction. Thank you. Oh, and if I had a choice, I'd go back and rewrite the beginning few chapters, because they were written over a year ago now and I think they suck big time. But hopefully I've improved as much as I'd like to think I have. I endeavor for a quality story, and that's why the chapters are farther apart than the original two-three days postings.  
  
Who else thinks Harry needs some anger management classes? Or a Prozac? Okay, now I'm rambling. I like to talk. I'll shut up and go write. 


	28. And Then The Mourning Comes

A/N: After the bloodbath of the last chapter, I have people asking for more character deaths?! Weird people. But I'll oblige. Just remember, you asked for it.  
  
Between ff.net being down for a couple days and completely losing Internet connection on the one computer I can actually use, this chapter was much later than I intended it to be. But it also gave me the opportunity to make it longer too. Closing in on the end here; it will hopefully be only 2-3 more chapters, but don't quote me on it. Still writing at all hours around my jobs.  
  
Anyway, thanks for the deluge of reviews on that last chapter. I know I upset and shocked a lot of you with the body count, and I'm sorry to say it will get a bit worse before it gets better. I do everything for a reason, not just because I like killing people off. And I'm not writing them off entirely, yet. Wait and see. No, Harry will not be resurrecting people.  
  
For those of you who questioned Harry's use of an Unforgiveable, this is one place where Order of the Phoenix actually helped. Go look at chapter 36, page 810 American version or page 715 British edition. The situation and reaction are basically the same; Harry's looking for vengeance against someone who has hurt him through another. And he didn't use the Imperius, he only threatened to.  
  
I wish I could answer you all individually, but that would take way too long. But I have a few comments to some especially intrepid reviewers:  
  
Max, thanks for your review, both of them. The first was entertaining in the fact that after I just killed 5 people, you want more blood. The second I found to be incredibly insightful and perceptive, which makes me that much happier that people enjoy what I write. No, I don't try to sugar-coat anything, for if real life and the Order of the Phoenix have taught us anything, it is that bad things happen even to good people, and a single mistake can have long reaching consequences. I'm incorporating a bit of philosophy in here when I can, but that's just because I'm a geek.  
  
Fox690, your insights were dead on in several places, and yes, Harry is changing intentionally. Like Hermione said, separate personalities have developed (As if being a teenager wasn't hard enough already). Wraith is darker, fighting fire with fire and not particularly squeamish about it either. Harry however still gets disturbed by it, and so lets Wraith take over for all fighting. He's slowly becoming a bit OOC, simply because he's evolving to deal with the situations. And maybe a bit more. Here's a little spoiler: *whispers* Eva has something to do with it. She has been keeping a secret, not the one mentioned earlier in the story but another, darker one that is affecting both Harry and her. And who said she's the one blocking him?  
  
Michu, I especially enjoyed your review. You flatter me. However, I am reminded of one of my favorite quotes: "Why get married and make one man miserable when I can stay single and make thousands miserable?" *winks*  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, in Order of the Phoenix Umbridge's office would have been firebombed right after that first detention. Mmmmmmmm, fire.  
  
Chapter 28  
  
Severus Snape wasn't the type of man to sing in the shower.  
  
Of course, he wasn't the type to really wash his hair in the shower either. But regardless, sometimes he just felt the need to stand under the scalding hot spray as if to cleanse everything he had seen and experienced from his skin. This was one of those times.  
  
He sighed with eyes closed as the water pounded the knots from his shoulders. Normally he would be finishing his last class for the day but with all the chaos of the morning that quickly spread into a panic, classes had been cancelled. Professor McGonagall has assumed the Headmistress duties as stated in the school charter and appointed him, Snape, Deputy Headmaster.  
  
He appreciated the faith that she had demonstrated in him, but was less thankful for the first task of having to arrange the funeral and burial of Albus Dumbledore. Perhaps fortunately, with their world in such disruption and with so many to bury, it could be relatively small and semi-private. But small doesn't mean uncomplicated, and somehow it seemed unsuitable for a man of such reverence and stature.  
  
Shaking his head, Snape turned up the hot water until his skin was red. They had had to arrange the clean up of both the bathroom and the headmaster's office, with the bodies taken down to the Hospital Wing for now until the funerals. Then he had descended into the dungeons to check on his students, only to find the older ones gone (as he expected) and the younger ones left behind in a state of terrified shock.  
  
Apparently from what he could gather from overlapping panicked babbles, two Gryffindors with wands drawn had stormed their Common Room, threatened them with the Imperius until they told where the Death Eaters had gone, then ran out with promises of later punishment. Some thought that Snape, as Head of Slytherin House, had come to deal with them personally. That idea reduced some first and second years to tears.  
  
Suppressing a sigh and the urge to join Potter and Weasley in whatever they were doing to the Death Eaters at that moment, Snape instead headed straight for his quarters. Noting the wards had deflected a final attempt to get at him, he had locked his door behind him and went straight for the shower.  
  
As steam billowed around him, he tried to think of the next step. The Ministry, for all intents and purposes, was demolished, yet as the Minister was still alive it was possible (although, he admitted to himself, improbable) to retain control through reorganization of what little remained of the bureaucracy. With the emergency situation, crisis control needed a dictator to save the wizarding world from the ravages of the Dark forces.  
  
But would that step be taken? And was it even worth it now? The Light had lost their most vocal leader, the majority of their army, the government and the economy with the fall of Diagon Alley and Gringotts in Britain. Raising his face to the pounding stream, he came to the sobering realization that they were indeed in trouble. Unless a miracle occurred, Snape could see no way that they could triumph from this point.  
  
Hogwarts already effected their power shifts, and relatively easily, but what about the Order? With all the recent losses, they were at less than half strength and without a leader. He made a face as he realized that Potter, as Phoenix Lord, could take control of the Order as was his right. But would he? Snape doubted it; the boy was not a team player or a general and he knew it. He hadn't realized just how much they depended on Albus until he was gone.  
  
The loss of Dumbledore hit Snape hard. The old man had been the only one to believe in him and give him a second chance when others would have gladly killed him on the spot. Albus always believed in the best in people even while discreetly planning for the worst. He had saved Snape form Azkaban and Voldemort, from his own self-imposed ruin.  
  
Snape refused to let tears surface, shoving them back by iron will. He would grieve later, when circumstances allowed. He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, using a dark green towel to dry himself. Walking into his bedroom to dress, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and scowled.  
  
Damn, his hair was clean.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Together Ron and Harry slowly climbed the stairs they had recently dashed down, lost in thought. Ron clenched one fist by his side as if willing to strangle something, but was otherwise outwardly calm. Harry walked with his head bowed, contemplating the stones passing beneath his feet as he absently rubbed the back of his scalp with his fingers.  
  
His friend noticed and commented in a casual voice, "Your hair's a nuisance at that length." Harry rolled his eyes eloquently. "You're telling me. I thought pulling ponytails went out in first year." "Nobody told that idiot apparently. Mind you, I don't think he was entirely sane anymore." Harry snorted. "I don't think he was sane to begin with. We just helped the process."  
  
As they turned a corner Harry reflexively scanned in both directions, and his braid whipped around with the movement and slapped the back of Ron's knees, causing him to yelp in surprise. Scowling, the redhead grabbed the end of the braid and threw it at Harry's back, and the heavy coiled mass impacted his shoulder hard enough to jolt him a bit. "Hey, watch where you're swinging that thing."  
  
Harry scowled back, his temper rising. "It's not my fault. It's not like I can feel where it is at all times." Ron arched an eyebrow and shot back sarcastically, "Oh really, a tail that long and heavy and you can't feel it." Not wanting a fight, Harry turned away and continued up the stairs, Ron joining him a moment later with his temper cooled. "Seriously now, do you really like your hair like that?"  
  
"No." He ruefully fingered the long raven strands. "Definitely not. Sometimes I miss that uncontrollable mop I used to have. But I can't really do anything about this." Ron snorted. "Ever heard of a haircut?" Harry made a face. "I tried. It's back by the next day, with a vengeance." He sighed. "Not even my hair's normal. Completely unfair."  
  
Again they lapsed into silence as that topic exhausted itself, thoughts and memories occupying their conscious thought while feet moved automatically up the stairs. As they emerged from the dungeons they became aware of more noise emitting from the Great Hall.  
  
Glancing at his watch, Ron was surprised to see that it was already dinnertime, which was immediately confirmed by his grumbling stomach. Shrugging, he led the way towards the food like an arrow seeking a bull's eye.  
  
The students were gathered as normal at their tables, but the food was barely touched as everyone seemed too busy talking loudly or crying in their seats. Many crossed over tables until three of the four houses were intermixed; Slytherin was nearly deserted, only a few despondent souls picking morosely at their plates. The two boys exchanged knowing glances, then headed for their seats by Hermione, who was waiting for them expectantly.  
  
She frowned as they sat down, and clucking her tongue softly she wetted her handkerchief in her water goblet. "Ron, you've blood on your face." Tilting his head down, she scrubbed at the spots that mingled with his freckles, and Harry surreptitiously ran his sleeve over his own face just to be safe.  
  
"So I even want to know?" Hermione asked tartly, some indefinable emotion in her eyes, and Ron shook his head, dislodging her grip. "Nope. Better off not." He sighed and looked away. "You can guess anyway."  
  
He looked around at the other students, his brow furrowed. "How's everyone else been reacting?" She grimaced. "Not good, but you guessed that anyway." She eyed them warily and hesitantly continued, "More bad news came in while you were gone." Harry sighed wearily. "Not again. Now what?"  
  
Hermione braced herself as she considered how to tell them, then just blurted out, "Diagon Alley and the Ministry were both attacked this morning by demons and Death Eaters. Near as we can tell, they were . . . well, completely destroyed, along with most of the people there. Afterwards they took a crack at St. Mungo's, but the Healers evacuated nearly everyone out beforehand." She glanced at Ron and heaved a deep shaky breath. "There was also an explosion in Hogsmeade. Fred and George were both targeted. Both stores were bombed . . . with them inside."  
  
Ron blinked at her as if she was speaking a foreign language, then slowly it sank in and he buried his face in his hands. Harry shook his head incredulously and said softly, "My alarm didn't even go off." He glanced over at his friend sharply. "What about Percy and Mr. Weasley?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "The few survivors were brought here, and Mr. Weasley was with them. He'd been cursed several times before the ceiling collapsed on him; they had to dig him out of the rubble. His back's broken in six places, and they're not sure whether he'll walk again."  
  
She paused, chewing her lower lip. "As for Percy . .. they've found no sign of him at all. They know he was in the office this morning, but . . . well, they're still looking, but right now I think everyone not accounted for is dead."  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes shut with a grimace and Hermione sniffed back tears. Ron gave no indication that he had heard anything at all, but they knew he had taken every single word as a stab in the guts. Ginny, Percy, Fred, George . . . all dead within mere hours of each other, and his dad may be permanently crippled.  
  
Unexpectedly Ron looked up and met Harry's eyes, a fire burning deep within. "I don't regret anything I did down there. Other than the fact that I can't do it all over again," he stated bluntly. Harry simply met his gaze with total comprehension and squeezed his shoulder in acknowledgement. Hermione looked away for a moment, then placed her hand on Ron's knee in support.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
It was after curfew, and nobody expect the professors out on patrol should have been creeping down the corridors. Yet Ron was, conveniently concealed beneath the Invisibility cloak he nicked from Harry's trunk.  
  
With a stealthiness that belied his tall lanky frame, he made it to the Hospital Wing with no trouble and snuck in. At the far end lay his father, with his mother asleep beside him in a chair. The door next to them, he knew, led to the room where the bodies were being kept until the funerals.  
  
His heart clenched at the thought of Ginny, lying cold and alone under a sheet. Memories plagued him: playing with Ginny as toddlers; chasing her around the house shrieking with laughter; the way they stood up for each other against the twins; the time he watched her dancing with Dad to music from the wireless; her pale face peering at him through the rock slide after the Chamber of Secrets; her laughing at him after beating him in a duel; yelling at her as she playfully made off with the socks she nicked from his trunk.  
  
He refused to think beyond that; his heart already lay in shattered pieces on the floor with nearly half his family in one day, no use trampling them under a Hippogriff. Ron choked down his tears and crossed the ward to settle by his parents.  
  
Even asleep Arthur's face showed the pain he was in despite Pomfrey's potions, and Molly looked wasted by grief as she fitfully slept, her head resting by her husband's on her arms. Reaching over, Ron ran a light finger over her hair, noting the white hairs amid the Weasley red that seemed to have sprung up overnight.  
  
Molly stirred and blinked red-rimmed eyes awake, and after a confused disoriented moment focused on her son sitting there. They stared at each other, then unexpectedly she reached over for him and he wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. His mother clung to him fiercely, reassuring herself that at least he was still there and alive, and let her tears flow unchecked.  
  
Ron knew that he should have felt awkward with the role reversal, but somehow it wasn't. Instead he just held her tightly, smoothing hair away even as his own tears fell on the white and red strands. Brokenly he whispered, "I'm sorry Mum. I'm so sorry." There was nothing else he could say, but she understood just the same.  
  
**************************************************************  
  
It wasn't until the next night that the Order of the Phoenix could all make it up to Hogwarts. Harry watched from the corner as they filed into the Phoenix Chamber and took their seats. Over half the chairs stood empty, and he half-wanted to get rid of them, yet knew he wouldn't. It was a reminder and a memorial that needed to stand for now.  
  
He tore his thoughts away from that depressing path and focused on the people, mainly his professors and adopted family, staring back at him with disconcerting intensity. He resumed his own seat and sighed. "So what now?"  
  
McGonagall glanced at the other members before speaking. "We still stand against the forces of Darkness, but we need a leader. Someone to whom we can turn to for direction and control." She met Harry's eye. "As Phoenix Lord, you are the natural choice. Take your rightful position."  
  
Immediately he shook his head vehemently. "No. I cannot and will not." He met all their gazes in turn as he spoke carefully. "I am not a leader. This Order needs a general, not a guerilla, at its head. Vote among yourselves for a new leader, someone who will not make the mistakes I have." Pausing, he added almost to himself, "Ron would be a better choice."  
  
At that Ron's eyes widened, then he shook his own head. "No way. This job's too big for me to handle." Harry shrugged and sat back, chair creaking in the ensuing silence, and the Order members looked around at each other, as if evaluating.  
  
Remus offered suddenly. "Why not you, Minerva?" She shook her head. "I have my hands full at the moment as Headmistress and answering for Arthur Weasley until he can regain his faculties and position." She favored the professor with a piercing stare. "For that matter, why not you Remus? You have the skills, as well as the trust and respect of those here."  
  
Ron jumped in. 'Yeah Remus. You'd be good at it." Mad Eye Moody, now with a few extra scars and more pronounced limp, nodded in agreement. "C'mon sonny, you know what it's like out there as well as the situation here at Hogwarts. Take the job." Remus started to protest, but Molly cut him off. "Please Remus. Use this opportunity to fight back. I'm sure Dumbledore would agree."  
  
His mouth gaping open, Remus looked at the expectant gazes in muted disbelief. "Are you sure you want me?" he asked weakly. In response, Harry began clapping and every one caught on quickly, even Snape although a bit reluctantly and with a disgusted expression. McGonagall glanced around and said crisply, "It seems to be unanimous, Remus."  
  
Sighing, he stood up and bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Very well. I'll do my best to make sure your trust in me is not unfounded." He sat again and, after a second, inquired, "What happened to the Death Eaters here?" Snape glanced over at Ron and Harry, who exchanged information-laden inscrutable glances.  
  
Then Ron spoke up. "We only caught the tail end of them. Their Portkeys were set to go off in groups, so Malfoy and the other major bastards made it out first. Harry destroyed the last few Portkeys, but only ten people were left." Remus frowned. "You didn't bring them back upstairs. What happened?" Harry stared at the opposite wall and stated firmly, "We took care of it."  
  
Remus glanced at him askance. "What do you mean, took care of it?" The teen repeated. "We took care of it. Justice was served. They won't harm anyone again." Snape scowled. "Fine. Where are the bodies?" Ron stared blankly at him. "What bodies?" "The Death Eaters." Snape appeared confused for an instant. "You did kill them, didn't you?"  
  
Harry and Ron shot each other strange glances that nevertheless held dire import, and Harry answered cryptically, "They are dealt with. You will not see them again." Snape, clearly exasperated with them both, just favored them with an icy glare and turned back to Remus, who was watching them all pensively.  
  
Clearing his throat, the lycanthrope changed the subject. "The arrangements have been made for the funerals, yes?" Snape and Molly both nodded, her sniffing back tears. "This Saturday morning. There will be a memorial service for all of them, then private internment afterwards." McGonagall sighed heavily. "Never before have we faced such losses all at once. I pray we never do again."  
  
Molly squeezed her eyes shut in pain and mumbled brokenly, "Never again." Ron had placed a comforting hand on her shoulder in support and echoed, "Never again."  
  
************************************************************  
  
Harry sat motionless on the roof of Gryffindor Tower looking out over the dark recesses of the forest, lit only by dim starlight. His mood was as dark as this night, and his future seemed just as bleak. Just being up on the roof reminded him of Ginny and the way she had reached out to him after Sirius' death. Glaring up at the stars, he mused darkly that his entire life seemed to be defined by pain. *What did I do to deserve this?*  
  
Angry and suffering, he reached out for Eva, seeking comfort and answers that she had always provided. His mind strained for that connection they had forged long ago, yet even as he traveled that path he found it blocked. Confused and fuming, he battered at it, mentally throwing his considerable strength against the solid wall that kept him from her.  
  
It refused to budge and eventually he gave up, despondently letting the connection fade away to the back of his mind. Somehow this simple failure managed to crush him further, and tucking his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and buried his face on his knees. His chest ached with such a fierce burn it probably would have felt better if his heart had been physically ripped out and run over by the Hogwarts Express.  
  
His eyes burned and itched, but he stubbornly refused to let the tears come. Things appeared hopeless as his world crumbled down around his ears, and right now he felt so helpless against the gathering strength of the Darkness. Yet he was still Harry Potter, and he would not cry. Instead he began to wall the pain away, deep inside him. He didn't want to feel it ever again; it just hurt too bad for him to cope.  
  
Why? Why did they all have to die? And so ignobly? To be murdered without a fighting chance; he chafed at the thought. Especially Ginny; she was such a feisty spirit she gave off an air of invincibility, of near immortality. Yet the Death Eaters had robbed her of that. Fred and George . . . he supposed it was fortunate that both were dead, for he knew that neither would want to live without their other half for long. Still, why them? All they really wanted was laughter.  
  
Deep within Harry, a simmering black rage rose slowly, blanketing his sorrow and pain with fiery anger. It cried loudly out to him, [Take your vengeance. Ease your pain with the blood of your enemies. Track them down, hunt them to the ground and make them cry out with fear. Let your loved ones rest in peace knowing their murderers died at your hands.]  
  
He frowned even as something inside yearned to do just that. *No. If I do, I'm no better than they are. Everyone who has died deserve something better than mindless vengeance. They deserve justice.* The voice slyly answered, [Yes, justice. Justice bought by the sword. This is where justice and vengeance are one and the same. They are not mutually exclusive.]  
  
Harry shook his head. *I will not be a murderer. That's how I passed the test for the talisman, by refusing to commit even supposedly justified slaughter.* [But you are already a murderer,] the voice, disturbingly familiar, countered smoothly. [Don't you remember all the battles? Remember how good it felt to destroy those Death Eaters, those who stood in your way?]  
  
Without missing a beat he switched to a new front. [How about down in the dungeons? Justice was served, and you felt free from the pain, liberated by their screams and their blood. Remember the satisfaction? Even Ron wasn't disturbed by it. ] The whispers were seductive in their truth and power, and Harry admitted to that dark part of him that yes, maybe he had enjoyed it. Too much.  
  
[Malfoy is still out there, alive and free, laughing at your impotence against him. You know he was involved with Ginny's murder. You can hunt him down and punish him for everything he has ever done, for every insult and slur and lie and injury. Spill his filthy inbred blood and erase your pain.] Harry shuddered, unable to respond to Wraith for all he wanted was to make it go away.  
  
Finally he answered weakly, *Go away, you're not helping. I'm not going to descend to their level, to become a savage animal.* Wraith gained strength as he countered, [At least animals don't dwell unnecessarily on their pain. They do something about it, to stop it.] *But I'm human. I don't respond with wanton destruction.*  
  
Wraith exclaimed, [So do it deliberately! And what's so great about being human? You're beyond human. More power belongs to you than any mere mortal can handle. Go show them why you are a War Mage!] Harry flinched at the shout but said coldly, *War Mages didn't hunt down and murder people because they could, or to prove their title. Now go away.*  
  
Wraith sounded disgusted. [So the all-powerful, famous Harry Potter is going to do nothing. Except let the bastards laugh and murder more innocent people, because he's too noble.] He made it seem like a particularly derogatory insult. Harry let his lip curl. *They are not, and I am not.* [You're not what? Noble?] *No, you idiot. I'm not going to do nothing. I will do everything in my power to stop them before they can hurt anyone else.*  
  
He hesitated. *And besides, they won't be able to hurt more soon enough, no matter what happens.* There was a long pause, then Wraith answered pensively, [There, we agree. We don't have much time left.] Harry nodded as he raised his head, searching the stars. *I'm thinking Halloween. Voldemort always likes the symbolic and statement-making actions.*  
  
[Hmm. He'll go through Hogsmeade first then up to the castle. Probably try the front gate initially, but when he finds our traps what will he do then?] *Possibly through the Forbidden Forest, but the centaurs are already stirred up and will most likely attack regardless. If there's enough demons, he might just let them swarm and overwhelm our defenses, leaving Hogwarts itself to the Death Eaters.*  
  
Harry mentally calculated the strengths of each side, trying to find any hope. *I don't think the Order can handle it by themselves. We need help. Desperately.* Wraith paused, then said slowly, [You could volunteer to teach the Dueling Club now, and prepare the students for the Death Eaters' assault. They will fight regardless, but this way they'll be helpful as more than just cannon fodder.]  
  
Harry considered it; the possibility had occurred to him earlier. *At the very least, they'll keep the Death Eaters busy until I'm done with the demons.* [And then you can wipe them all out. War is not murder, even to your fragile sensibilities,] Wraith declared with relish and not a little contempt. Harry knew that there would have been a savage grin lighting his fierce eyes if he could see it.  
  
Wait. If he could . . . then what . . . who was . . . Oh hell. Harry buried his face in his hands and groaned aloud at the sudden realization. He had just been arguing with himself and losing. No, not himself, for Wraith was not really himself anymore, but another personality completely. [Yes,] he spoke up smugly, [Took you long enough to realize it. I'm inside you. We are the same. There's no escaping it. When the battle comes, I will destroy Voldemort and all his underlings. The grass will be stained red by the end of the day with their weak blood.]  
  
Troubled and feeling abruptly violated and unclean, Harry shied away from the conversation, and as Wraith faded back he called out again with desperation, *Eva? Please, answer me.* His voice rang in the silence, but unexpectedly a voice answered. Unfortunately it wasn't Eva. "Harry?" Ron's voice whispered in the dark, and with some scrambling and thuds the redhead appeared huffing and puffing to plop down at his friend's side.  
  
Harry gave him a nod but didn't look at him even as he felt Ron's eyes scanning him. Finally Ron broke the silence. "Hey mate, you okay?" Harry shrugged even as Ron winced at his words; of course he wasn't okay, nothing was okay anymore. Uneasily he cleared his throat. "Um, well . . . Harry, I gotta talk to someone, and Hermione's with Mum and no one else would understand."  
  
Relieved at the interruption to his disquieting thoughts, Harry nodded and turned his head fractionally towards his friend. Ron breathed a sigh and settled back on the roof with his hands laced behind his head, gathering himself. "It's just . . . I thought that maybe . . . what we did down there, I figured it would . . . I don't know, somehow make it a little better. Not a lot, but . . . but now, all I think about is tracking down Malfoy and all those others that got away and making them pay. For everything."  
  
Harry nodded with complete understanding. "That's exactly what I was thinking before you showed up." Ron huffed through his nose. "But at the same time, I can't. I just can't. I know it's wrong but . . . it's the right kind of wrong, see? It's not right, but not really wrong either . . . oh, I don't know. All I know is that something is holding me back from doing whatever I can to destroy them."  
  
His friend smiled sadly. "Same with me." He stared up at the stars and mused, "Remember back in third year, in the Shrieking Shack? I stopped Remus and Sirius from killing Wormtail because I didn't want them to be murderers on his account." He shifted and laid back on the roof, mimicking Ron's position. "I guess it's kind of the same. Ginny, Fred, George, Percy, Dumbledore, Sirius . . . they all deserve justice, and I think on one hand they'd understand. But an even bigger part of them would disapprove. Taking a life, even justifiable, is momentous, and I don't want any more of it than I can. And neither do you."  
  
The two friends sat in silence for a long time, thinking and battling inner demons, until Ron said quietly, "I miss them." He sniffed almost inaudibly, then continued, "It's only been a day, but I'm starting to forget things. Just little things about them, like what kind of cologne Fred wore, or what flavor of sugar quill Ginny always took to History of Magic. Now . . . I'm worried that I'll forget more of them, like their voices or faces." His voice turned husky as he murmured, "I don't want to lose them again."  
  
Harry nudged him a bit. "Don't worry, you won't. Think about them in context, instead of just trying to recall random details. Only Hermione's good at that." Ron frowned. "What do you mean?" "Like, remember the first time Ginny beat you in a straight duel over the summer? That huge smile she had, with her hair a mess after your curse twirled her like a top, and that look in her eyes that told you she was going to tease you about it later?  
  
Or the twins last year, when George distracted Hermione with the flying spoons while Fred slipped a Medusa Mint in her pudding? How angry she was when it turned green, and then her hair looked like it could take over a small country?" Ron sniggered softly. "I think Colin has a picture of it. Wonder if I could buy it off him."  
  
Sighing, he reminisced, "Yeah, I remember one day years ago. I think I was about five or six at the time. Charlie was supposed to be minding all of us while Mum took Grandma Weasley shopping, but he was out in the garden trying to make friends with the Knarl most of the time. Percy locked himself in his room to read, so Fred and George raided the kitchen and Bill's room. Ginny and I had been playing in her room when we found them pouring honey in Bill's underwear.  
  
"When we threatened to tell Mum, the twins tied my ankles together and dangled me upside down over the stair rail. Ginny started yelling and kicked George, who had blocked her in the corner and now dropped the rope. He went hopping around the landing in pain and nearly fell down the stairs. Fred couldn't hold the rope by himself, so I went down to land head first in a pudding Mum had put out to cool. She had put alarms around it to keep us from snitching, and they all went off at once. Ginny jumped on Fred and managed to break his nose and black his eye.  
  
"Meanwhile Percy heard the ruckus and opened the door to tell us off, only to slip on the honeyed underwear and trip headfirst into a bucket of Bubotuber pus the twins had lugged up. Mum kept it around for Bill and Charlie; they may look good now, but back then their pimples outnumbered their freckles. Anyway, Percy comes up screaming, looking like a sour pickle with all the boils, and George starts laughing so hard he falls backwards down the stairs, hits the bottom and rolls into the hearth, where his hair catches fire.  
  
"He's running around yelling, trying to put it out, and Charlie runs in with his wand drawn all panicking. Percy gets the bright idea to dump the rest of the bucket on George to put out his hair, which it does but also splashes Charlie. He's so startled and in pain he runs out of the house and dunks his head in the pigs' trough outside."  
  
Ron was really getting into the story, hands tracing out different actions and his face more animated than Harry had seen in a good long while. He continued around little hiccoughs of laughter, "By now Mum demonstrates her knack for timing by showing up just then, catches one glimpse of Percy who by now resembles a very old goblin, shrieks, pulls her wand and banishes him out to the garden in a trice, where he lands in a gnome hold and gets his foot stuck. I'm sitting on the table, covered with pudding, still tied up and laughing my head off till I'm crying.  
  
"Mum thinks I'm hurt and immediately starts screaming at Charlie, then the twins, and now Ginny's crying because I'm crying and Mum's shouting. Percy manages to get free and limps back into the house, only then Dad Apparates home for lunch and lands right on top of him. Fred's trying to stop a bloody nose, but slips on the spilled honey and falls right on the container. He's stuck to the floor now, and the container falls over the stairs and lands right on Mum's head."  
  
He shook his head with extreme amusement as he remembered the chaos, laughing. "It took over an hour to settle everything down, and then George, Percy and Charlie all had to be bandaged up. Ginny and I didn't have a scratch, amazingly enough. Because of the bandages Mum didn't grown George's hair back until he healed, so one night Ginny snuck into his room and painted his head a Chudley Cannons orange. Bill threatened to take his picture and put it up in my room. Ginny couldn't stop laughing every time he walked in the room for a week. The best part is, after that Charlie never got another pimple."  
  
Ron gave in to his fits of laughter, tears streaming down his face, and Harry laughed right along with him at the mental picture his words drew for him. He swiped at his eyes and sniggered, "Too bad no one got a picture of that." "Yeah," Ron agreed wholeheartedly, and then with a sigh and final burst of snickers settled down again.  
  
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, listening to the night breeze swish through the branches in the forest. Eventually Ron spoke again, sadly contemplative. "Y'know, I don't think I ever really appreciated my family until this war started, especially Percy and Ginny. He was always the know- it-all older brother with a stick up his arse, and she was my baby sister. I mean, we got along fine for the most part, but I always saw them in these roles I'd created."  
  
He shook his head. "Goes to show how people can surprise you. Percy did most of the work backtracking files to suspected Death Eaters once the news broke that they were actively serving You Know . . . Voldemort, again. He even uncovered most of the evidence against Malfoy for the trial. And here I'd thought he'd stand by the Ministry forever, even when they locked him away in a dead end back office."  
  
"Ginny . . . well, Ginny stopped being a little girl a long time ago, but I didn't see it until she kicked my arse that first duel. Suddenly Gin-Gin wasn't tagging along with me everywhere, my best friend in the world." Ron sighed. "You have no idea how strange it was to realize my sister was an actual girl, and had her own life apart from me. Did you know she had a boyfriend last year? Or that she'd been tutoring younger students in Charms? I didn't until Hermione told me."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I didn't either. We were friends, but not really until this last summer." Ron nodded, then shot a strange glance over at Harry before turning back to stargazing. Harry could sense that his friend still had something to ask, so he kept quiet, waiting for him to broach the subject. It took two shooting stars and a near miss by owl droppings but eventually Ron cleared his throat in preparation.  
  
"Say Harry, um . . . I don't . . . well, I guess I want to know . . . but you don't have to answer . . . um, well," he coughed, "did . . . I mean, I know that Ginny still liked you, you know, like that . . . I, um, I'm wondering if you, well . . . if you liked her back, like that. As more than friends." He trailed off into silence as Harry pondered his answer, something that he had struggled with himself over for a while.  
  
Finally he said slowly, "I don't know, Ron. I mean, I know I liked her as a friend, and she was pretty with a lot of qualities a bloke could like. I know she liked me, and I know that I cared for her. She was a bit more than a friend, I think, but not like a sister, and I guess . . . well, I just don't know. I don't know if I could have loved her. The possibility was there, I just don't know if it could have been a reality."  
  
Harry sighed. "We needed more time." Ron softly answered, "We all did."  
  
*********************************************************  
  
Saturday morning dawned cold and grey, a typical last October day which matched the general mood of the wizarding populace. The memorial service at Hogwarts recognized the four Weasleys individually and Dumbledore, as well as the Aurors who had fallen in the line of duty. The house elves had taken Dobby and buried him quietly just inside the grounds, where the elves had their own plot of land.  
  
In spite of the looming pall of war, many had turned out to join the population of Hogwarts in remembering the revered Headmaster and four extraordinary people. In contrast, the burials themselves were small, private gatherings. Just the professors and the Order were there to lower the caskets into the cold earth. Dumbledore was buried by the shore of the lake opposite the school, overlooking the crystal water and Hogwarts so that even in death he could keep watch on his beloved school.  
  
Ginny, on the other hand, they took back to the land the Burrow used to occupy. After the attack, the house and open land had been burned to ashes, but the forest by the stream was relatively untouched. The remained of the Weasley family, with four lost but only one body to bury, all wept openly as Professors McGonagall and Lupin used their wands to lay her to rest beneath her childhood tree house.  
  
Arthur sat stiffly, propped up in a chair and secured by a Sticking charm to keep him from moving and injuring his back further, while Molly clung to Bill sobbing. Once the grave had been covered over, Ron drove in the marker; a cross with a heart as the crux that simply read, "Beloved Ginny." In memorial around the tree, Charlie affixed three plaques, one each for Percy, Fred, and George.  
  
The ceremony over, they all slowly wandered away to Portkey back to Hogwarts. Harry, uneasy both because of the funeral and by being back to the place where Sirius had died, wanted nothing more than to get as far away from this place as possible. Yet he stood by the grave, staring at the mound of earth and the marker, remembering the young woman who had touched his life in so many little ways.  
  
He clenched his fists, then forcibly loosened them again as he found he had been doing all morning. Kneeling, he laid a hand on the earth, feeling it welcome its new addition to its cycle of rebirth, and softly murmured to her, "I'm so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I swear I'll end this, so that no one else I love will share your fate."  
  
Slowly he stood and with one final look turned and walked away, knowing he would never be back. Ron stood with Hermione and Mrs. Weasley at the edge of the wood waiting for him. Molly saw him first and enveloped Harry in a tight hug, which he returned, clinging. He whispered to her, "I'm so sorry." She shook her head wearily. "It wasn't your fault dear, so you have nothing to apologize for."  
  
Molly released him and turned away slightly, wiping her eyes on a handkerchief. "It's a mother's worst nightmare," she confessed brokenly. "No one should have to bury their own children." Harry swallowed hard. "I promise that I will do whatever I can to make sure there are no more funerals, for any family." She smiled crookedly at him. "I know you will. Thank you."  
  
Together they all Portkeyed back to the gates of Hogwarts and began the trek up to the school. Partway there, Harry faltered as he stared over at the imposing Whomping Willow. The tree, and the carved plinth just out of reach of the branches. Ron glanced over at him then the Willow, and clapped a hand on his shoulder. The two friends nodded to each other and as Harry headed for Sirius' grave, Ron ushered Hermione and his mum into the castle.  
  
After showing Mrs. Weasley back to her quarters, Hermione stood with her boyfriend in the deserted corridor, feeling the need to speak but with nothing to say. He avoided meeting her eyes or even looking at her, fidgeting with his hands. Then tension grew more and more stifling . . . then Ron sneezed. Loudly. Three times.  
  
Hermione started to giggle at his slightly dizzy expression and wrapped her arm around his waist. "Come on, the fire's waiting for us in the Common Room. Let's go warm up." Smiling thankfully, he held her close to his side as they climbed back to Gryffindor Tower, relishing her support in her mere presence. He had been afraid that she might decide to reject him after what he did, but apparently she wasn't going anywhere.  
  
Together they claimed the sofa in front of the hearth in the Common Room, effectively shutting out the rest of the world as they cuddled and stared into the flames. That was how Harry found them an hour later when he finally returned, his cloak radiating the chill from outside to match his icily blank expression.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
"Death, what the hell do you think you are doing?!" The outraged scream echoed across the plain and reverberated in the ancient city, and Death glanced up to see a woman striding towards her at a rapid clip, her changeable hair streaming behind her like a meteor's final descent into atmosphere.  
  
"Hello Fate." She nodded cordially, but Fate just glared at her with flashing eyes. "Answer me Death. What is the meaning of this?" "I am afraid that you will have to be more specific than that if you want an answer." Fate huffed, fuming at Death's imperturbable expression.  
  
"All right. I want to know why you have taken it upon yourself to take more and more people early. One or two here and there you could get away with, but five in a row? You know the rules as well as I do; You can't touch them until their time has come. It's all recorded in the Book."  
  
"Ah, yes." Death nodded. "As you said, I do know the rules. But as you also know, it is no longer my decision." Fate glanced up at the sky, neck muscles straining as she tried to reign herself in. "Alright, I don't know when you started taking orders that directly contradict the laws set up at the beginning of these realms, but now you need to stop."  
  
Death simply looked at her. "I cannot." "Why not?! Don't you know that your actions are helping Lucifer, not us?! Do you want to be the servant of your former servant?!" Fate yelled, agitatedly playing with the dice in her hand. Death brushed at her black robes. "I do know well the consequences of my actions, and I do not particularly like them. But as I said, it is no longer my decision."  
  
"THEN WHOSE IS IT?!?!?!" When Fate is frustrated, it's not very pretty, or quiet. This was comparable to a hydrogen bomb being let off in a monastery where all the monks had taken vows of silence. The explosion caused two people, who had been hidden behind the outer wall of the city, to jump so high that Fate caught sight of them. Irritated, she beckoned them forward and turned on Death.  
  
"See?!" she cried, pointing at the two sheepish guys slowly approaching the Guardians. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! You had no right to take these two from their homes or their lives, but instead they are here eavesdropping on us! And you can't do anything about it?!" This last part dripped with sarcasm and contempt.  
  
Death apparently missed it, or more likely chose to ignore it. "That is right. I can only do what I am told by the master. And you know as well as I who that is. After all," for the first time her voice exhibited some emotion; derision, "you are the one who set him up." She shot her counterpart a mocking look. "See what happens when you meddle?"  
  
Fate scowled. "This was not what I had in mind." Death nodded. "Very few plans work the way they are supposed to. Especially when relying on the human element. Maybe you should have planned for that." She turned back to her city, silver hair cascading around her face. "If that is all, I have work to do. Say hello to Time when you see him."  
  
Fate watched her walk away, grinding her teeth audibly. Suddenly she whipped around to see the two identical guys staring at her. "What?" she barked. One cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. "My lady, my brother and I couldn't help but overhear your conversation."  
  
The other picked up the thread, flipping a lock of red hair off his forehead, "And since you know as well as we do that we are not supposed to be here . . ." "and that in fact it is Death's mistake that brought us here, we were wondering . . ." "if you could use your mighty influence and rectify that mistake . . ." "by sending us back to our humble lives, my beautiful lady."  
  
As they finished each other's thoughts, Fate felt like she was watching a tennis match. When they finished with slight smiles and short bows, she thought for a minute that maybe she should be charmed. But her temper got the best of her.  
  
"Fred and George Weasley," she gritted, eyes flashing blue and red, "you have no right to ask this of me. You have no idea as to the laws of the Guardians in conjunction to the realms and interactions with mortals, and if you ever try to meddle or curry favor again, I will personally make sure that Death introduces you to her other playground. The one you call Hell."  
  
Whirling, Fate stomped off into the city in the opposite direction of Death, and the Weasley twins watched her leave before sighing. "Well," George commented, "It was worth a shot." Fred shrugged. "Didn't think she'd go for it. Maybe we picked a bad time."  
  
They wandered back out of the city and over the hills until they reached a small group of people sitting in the grass waiting for them. "Hey!" Ginny jumped up from where she had reclined on the hill playing distractedly with the fern-like blades of grass. Sirius looked up and smiled. "So you two, how did it go? Any change in our status?"  
  
Fred looked over at George. "Well, no, not really. In fact, we didn't even get to talk to Death. We ran into Fate." James looked up, interested. "You met Fate? She's never come here before. What did she say?" George shrugged. "We presented our request, and she didn't take it so well." Fred rolled his eyes. "In fact, Fate threatened to tear us a new one if we ever asked again."  
  
Percy sighed. "Pity. I didn't think I would work, but you had to try." Cedric stretched back out on the grass. "So what's going on out there? Did you learn anything new?" George shook his head. "Not that we overheard, other than that Death's not following the rules as usual. But we knew that." Lily yawned a bit, a cozy as a cat curled up by James' side. "So, what was she like? Fate, I mean. We've never met her."  
  
George glanced around at the people Death had unfairly seized early and deadpanned, "Fate's a bitch." 


	29. Interlude: What Dreams May Come

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but I changed jobs and was working all day, then went to my second evening job. Basically, I had no time. Somehow I managed to write these next two chapters; I think I was supposed to be sleeping, but oh well, priorities. Originally, this chapter wasn't supposed to even exist, but when I read all the reviews pushing for more Harry/Eva I decided that I did need a chapter of down time for the characters right before . . . well, you'll find out.  
  
Btw, I blame this one on my sister, who loves romance books and boys in equal measure. Her life could almost be a soap opera, except that the acting is so poor. ; ) I despise romance, and therefore have no practical experience in any area of it. So I swiped from the nearest expert. *shudders* At least I did my research (as much as I could stomach). I do the characterizations, she does the mushy stuff, like: Roses are red, violets are plum, a kiss isn't a kiss without some tongue. Excuse me while I go gag up my lunch.  
  
Ueshiba: I try to give credit to those people who inspire me enough to use their ideas. Unfortunately no, the parvellah is not a product of my twisted imagination. It comes from The Crimson Claw, second in The Alien Chronicles by Deborah Chester. It's described as an ancient Aaroun weapon of war, half hammer half axe made of iron, which despite its considerable weight is meant to be used single-handedly. In gladiatorial combat it's often paired with daggers or short swords; in ceremonial use, it cracks open the skulls of victims. For that matter, the word interdigitating isn't mine either. Long story, but a friend at college made it up in regards to the level of intimacy behind holding hands. In this case, intertwining fingers together to hold tightly tells of a close personal relationship, such as boyfriend/girlfriend. *shrugs* I found it funny.  
  
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm making no money off of this at all. But if you want to give me some, it's very much appreciated. College is expensive, as is gas for my car. Title is inspired by Shakespeare's Macbeth, in the famous "To be or not to be" soliloquy. If you haven't read it, go educate yourself. Perelandra is from CS Lewis' Space Trilogy, because I like it and I'm too lazy to make up my own names.  
  
Chapter 29  
  
The night breeze whistled gently through the open window and sent the drapes fluttering. But Eva felt none of it, as she was restlessly asleep in her bed, tossing and turning with the sheets slithering to the floor. Abruptly she snapped awakes, eyes automatically scanning the room as her mind groped for the reason for her awakening. A voice had been calling her, faint and indistinct. But recognizable. Harry.  
  
Eva swiftly got out of bed and reached for her robe as she mentally reached for her protégé, then frowned at the poor connection. Still, his intention was clear. He needed her, now. She smiled, for even with the urgency and potential danger and depression hanging on his sense, she loved to hear his voice. Throwing on a decent set of clothes, Eva concentrated on forcing her mind through the dimensional barriers, and with a pop landed on the roof of Gryffindor Tower, right next to Harry.  
  
Immediately she noted the stress lines on his face, the haunted look in his eyes combined with his pale face giving him the appearance of a much older man. Her happiness at seeing him again retreated quickly to be replaced by concern and alarm. Sitting carefully next to him, she murmured softly, "Hi, I've missed you." He gave her a small tremulous smile. "I'm missed you too."  
  
He made as if to say more, then closed his mouth and half turned his head. Eva waited, sensing that he would open up when he was ready, and so while he studied the roof tiles she studied him. For a moment she lost herself in a daydream as her eyes indulged themselves on his figure, then jolted back to reality with his voice. "I . . . I don't know what to do," Harry confessed, using a tone of helplessness that she had never heard him use before.  
  
"It's just . . . this whole war has messed everything up so badly . . . and ever since Sirius . . ." he swallowed hard, "I've been . . .well, afraid that I'll mess up again, and someone else will die because of me, because I made a mistake." His jaw clicked shut audibly, biting off the last word, and she knew how difficult it was for him to admit fear or fallibility.  
  
For the moment she blanked on how to help him; her instinctual reaction was to gather him in her arms and kiss away his fear and pain. But that was her selfish desire, not his. So she spoke slowly, considering. "So the game has changed, and you don't want and can't afford to sacrifice any more." He nodded silently, and she simply looked at him. "Harry, did you ever learn how to ride a bike?"  
  
He appeared startled by the change of topic but answered, "No. Dudley had a few bikes but they never let me so much as touch them. Like I might infect them or something." Eva bit her lip; that wouldn't work. "Okay then, think about riding a broom then." As expected, that elicited a small genuine smile, and she continued, "Were you able to do a perfect Wronski Feint the first time you tried?"  
  
Harry quirked his lips. "No. That first time I misjudged my timing and nearly splattered myself all over the Weasleys' backyard. Made Hermione scream louder than a banshee." Eva pressed, "But you got up? Got back on your broom and kept playing, kept doing it until you perfected it?" This time his nod was pensive, as if he was beginning to see what she was getting at.  
  
"You see?" She spread her hands. "This is the same, but on a larger scale. You try to minimize mistakes, or at least their impact, and you learn from it in order to accomplish your goal." Eva hesitated, then reached over and touched his cheek, turning his face towards her. "There are two types of fliers; those who have fallen off and those who will. It's inevitable. The question is, are you going to give in to fear and stay down? Or are you going to get back up and win? If you let fear and indecision rule you, Voldemort will win without having to fight at all."  
  
Their eyes met for a timeless moment, then he adverted his gaze. "You sound like a fortune cookies," Harry said with an attempt at bitterness, but Eva saw the melancholy behind it and tried purposely for levity. "Actually, that's where I got it from. But my favorite is still, 'Help, I'm trapped in a fortune cookie factory!'"  
  
He snorted with involuntary laughter, and she smiled at him. Then it twisted into a frown as she let her strangely tingling fingers trace down his jawline. "Harry, you're freezing. How long have you been out here?" He shrugged, seemingly not feeling her hand stroking his neck and face, or at least ignoring it. "A few hours. I don't know exactly. But I can't stand being inside right now."  
  
Instantly her protective instincts kicked in. "Well, we can't afford for you to catch cold. Here." She conjured up a blanket, then scooted behind him. "Let me warm you up," she said as steadily as she could considering her fluttering heart, then wrapped both herself and the blanket around his chilled body, creating a warm cocoon.  
  
At first he tensed against the strange contact, then relaxed as her arm snaked around his chest and held him tightly to her, lightly rubbing the exposed skin of his arms. "That better?" she murmured, and was inexplicably delighted to feel a shiver run through him. He swallowed once and softly answered, "Much." He half-turned his head to see her face. "Thank you."  
  
They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the clouds chase each other across the night sky, dimly illuminated by starlight and a sliver of moon. Eva was infinitely glad that Harry felt no compunction to communicate mentally, for at the moment her mind was busy fantasizing. The fell of his body cradled against hers elicited warm memories and sensations, and she inconspicuously sniffed at his neck, memorizing his distinctive scent as hair ticked her cheek. She loved the way he smelled, especially right after he had been wearing his Wraith clothes and held the faint trace of leather; it was more intoxicating for her than any drug could ever be.  
  
She tightened her arms around him, and instinctively he leaned back into her, sighing just a bit as some tension and anxiety left him. One of his hands absentmindedly stroked hers on his chest, fingers tracing light patterns to make her heart skip a few beats. "You know," Harry spoke softly, but it was sufficient to startle Eva from her increasingly vivid daydreams. "I like coming up here, on the roof. It's a good place to think, to get away from everyone." He tilted his head slightly. "It's private."  
  
She caught his subtle change in tone and tried to clamp down on her emotions, forcing herself not to hope. "Privacy is good," she managed, but the steady voice was undercut by the breathy quality in tone. He twisted so he faced her, a bright gleam in his eyes yet with slight uncertainty. His voice had become oddly husky as he murmured, "Especially for some things."  
  
His eyes were focused on her lips, and unconsciously she licked them, also staring as he closed in with aching slowness. As his lips touched hers, she sighed with pleasure and kissed back until they both broke away gently. She let a silly grin cross her face at his flushed cheeks and bright eyes, then leaned in for another kiss. He responded with more fire which she eagerly matched, letting her hands do what they'd been itching to do and run over his body in small caresses. He smiled against her mouth, and his hands began tracing her figure gently, almost worshipfully.  
  
Kisses continued throughout, until Eva was dizzy, either due to lack of oxygen or his presence, she couldn't tell. His tongue tentatively snuck out to trace her lower lip, and as she opened her mouth with a low moan she felt like she was drowning, like she was falling . . . .  
  
With a loud thump, an "oof!" and a splutter, Eva was forcibly knocked from her dream as she hit the floor. Disoriented and massively confused, she looked wildly around trying to find something, then her pillow slipped off the bed and landed on her head. Startled, she grabbed it and flung it away forcefully, so it impacted the wall and exploded with a large cloud of feathers.  
  
Blinking against the atmospheric assault, the pain in her rear grounded her back in reality and with a frustrated groan and muttered invective she flopped back on the floor by her bed. Her dreams were seriously getting out of hand. Breathing deeply, she tried to expel the remnants of the dream, yet they clung tenaciously like vines, filling her mind with flashes of memories . . . Harry's face, his hands, his lips, on hers . . .  
  
That wasn't helping. Hauling herself to her feet, she exited her bedroom and headed at a run into her gym where she immediately tackled the punching bag. Ignoring the fact that she was still in her nightclothes, she went through her warm-up and kickboxing routine with vigor, expecting the physical activity to purge her brain of any distractions.  
  
For a while it worked, and with a final roundhouse kick Eva sent the punching bag swinging so hard the rope nearly broke. Blowing out a quick breath to get the hair out of her face, she sauntered over to the bench while stripping off her gloves and plopped down. That felt good; she briefly thanked whoever it was that invented kickboxing. Great tension reliever.  
  
Unfortunately, now that she wasn't punishing the equipment with her frustrations, they all came flooding back. Evan an exhausting workout like this couldn't help; in fact, it reminded her once again of her chief source of problems. Harry. Groaning with exasperation, Eva buried her face in her hands. Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? He was only her student, a mortal and a teenager at that. He hadn't even contacted her since they parted over the summer.  
  
And yet her traitorous mind replayed imaged of him during training, whether sweat-soaked as they sparred or swimming down in the ocean or just sitting and reading together. Her ears remembered the sound of his voice, his laughter, while her hands recalled vividly his body against hers as she comforted him and chased away nightmares.  
  
Now her face was red from more than just exertion, and briefly she was glad no one else was around. Buy maybe that was the problem. She was alone with nothing to do at the moment, and loneliness chafed at her. She should call him. No, that would seem desperate. Especially after that dream. Could she even face him now when all she wanted to do was . . .  
  
Alright, enough! Eva forcibly wrenched her thoughts away from that disturbing path and strode out of the gym to head for the kitchen. Rummaging distractedly through the cupboards, she scowled to realize that even though her stomach growled loudly, nothing sounded good. Finally she grabbed two chocolate bars and headed out, wandering the compound aimlessly as she munched.  
  
Unexpectedly her feet carried her to her room and she stared at the flat screen on one wall. The portal, the one that allowed her to peek in to any dimension and quietly observe. She could turn it on and check on Harry, watch him for a while to make sure he was okay. Might be good to check up on recent developments too; her last assignment had taken her out to Perelandra for far longer than she expected. She was curious as to what new events had directed the war.  
  
Her hand hovered over the button . . . then she yanked it away as if burned. No, not like that. That was spying, and for some reason she felt uncomfortable with it. That confused her to no end, as she had done a lot of spying before with nary a thought; Eva scowled and bit fiercely into her chocolate. She should just go down and see him in person. That's what she really wanted to do anyways.  
  
But that went beyond her 'meddling mandate,' as she termed the rules the Guardians had placed on her position. That strayed into the forbidden realm of involvement. Her heart fluttered at the possible double meaning, but then she ruthlessly clamped down on it. It would never happen. While Eva admitted to herself that she loved Harry (even to the point of exhibiting the symptoms of a silly school-girl crush beyond her considerable self- control), it could never happen. Harry could never love her back like that.  
  
She clenched her fists tightly, railing impotently and silently at her superiors in the hierarchy. That bitch Fate ordered him to be a soldier, with emotions such as love to be considered as unwanted baggage and discarded. Eva should go over and pick a fight, just to release stress caused by rampant emotions and unrequited love. She sighed; no, that wasn't a good idea. They were both firebrands and rather stubborn. The consequences weren't worth it.  
  
She remembered vividly the last time she and Fate had fought; everyone was distracted from their jobs in their realms since the fight was so entertaining, and the Black Plague had swept Europe, decimating the population. And that was just one realm. Another had disintegrated under chaotic influences and self-destructed. Eva wrinkled her nose at the memory, and the screaming match that sunk the Titanic. Fights among the Guardians were not good.  
  
With a vicious bite of chocolate, she knew she wasn't in the mood to deal with Fate today. Maybe she should go see Death and whoever her new company way. She made a face. No, Death tended to creep her out, which wasn't unusual considering their circumstances, and the newly taken tended to whine about their changed statue. After all, there is no death, only a change of worlds.  
  
Now that she had rejected all of her possibilities, the time seemed to stretch like taffy around her into one endless sheet of boredom. Aggravated and restless, Eva finally just stalked outside and flopped down on the grass, mind still firmly fixed on Harry. *Men suck,* she thought sourly to herself. After all, it was a male that started this whole mess.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Voldemort shivered, ice trickling down his spine and yanking at his nerves despite his proximity to the fire. Or rather, because of it, for this fire was not the comforting heart of red-gold oxygen combustion. This fire licked with tongues of ebony ice, illuminating nothing with wavering nonlight, and within the flames stood a person.  
  
No, not a person, but a creature of pure blackness and evil, the immortal Master of Darkness and Voldemort's only Lord. He bowed low and addressed the creature reverently. "My Master, the time draws near. I wish for your guidance in this final stage. When should my forces attack, and how?"  
  
Lucifer regarded him with glowing eyes, evaluating his servant. "Yes, the time does draw near. We must not wait any longer. Seize the talisman before All Hallow's Eve and complete the ritual, so that my power will be the strongest that night. Then, and only then, will we be able to kill Potter and pave our way to glory."  
  
He stepped away from the fire, pacing around like a predatory cat. "The Guardians grow restless, knowing as they do what my ultimate goal is. Only Chaos is somewhat pleased, but he is still not entirely happy with the situation. Fortunately, they are still bound by their own rules, unable to interfere with my plans here." He hissed between pointed teeth. "But Potter . . . he is another matter. His meddling has set back our plans and cost us too much."  
  
He spitted the kneeling form of Voldemort with fierce annoyance. "The demons are not an infinite resource, and yet you keep deploying them where he or that accursed Wraith is at leisure to destroy them utterly." Voldemort shuddered at the malevolent displeasure directed at him, and he bowed lower.  
  
"My Lord, we have still been unable to determine how they are able to pinpoint our attacks so rapidly, but neither Potter nor Wraith were present during our attacks on the Ministry. I propose that we deploy the demons to Hogsmeade for the first phase, so while Wraith is busy protecting the village, my Death Eaters proceed to Hogwarts. Potter is sure to have hidden the talisman within the school. We will find it."  
  
Lucifer let his fangs gleam in the black nonlight. "Very well. Do not fail me." One clawed hand reached out and almost tenderly caressed his servant's bald head, making the pale flesh redden and sizzle. "Soon, my servant. Soon, with the talisman, our powers will be combined, unmatchable by any in this realm or without. No one can stop us."  
  
With a final croaking laugh, the creature stepped back into the fire and together they faded. The flames sputtered then shrank back into the black orb at the base. Biting back his pain, Voldemort knelt and picked up the first talisman, flicking the eyes shut when they rotated to glare balefully at him. He let a small smile twist his face. Yes, soon.  
  
They all will be forced to kneel and call him Master.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Yet again, Harry spent another sleepless night up on the roof of Gryffindor Tower. He should have probably just moved his bed up there in the first place; he'd be able to sleep, and the other guys in his dorm would have more room to scatter their dirty socks. Plus the stones became pretty uncomfortable very quickly, and a blanket would cut the chill wind nicely.  
  
But he ignored the elements, unwilling to venture back inside. Lately being around people made him uncomfortable; sometimes it took everything he had just to make it to class, where he sat in the back at a solo table, ignoring the professors. His Dueling Club required every ounce of self- discipline to make it through, and even Quidditch could be a trial.  
  
There was only one person he really wanted to see, but she was also the one he could not. Eva. Somehow the lack of her comforting presence amplified every bad thing that had happened to and around him lately, and he felt utterly alone. Soul aching with loneliness, he reached out for her again, yelling intangibly along their bond. *Eva! Please answer me! I need you! Eva!*  
  
His shout echoed in his head for several long moments, then with a sigh he started to withdraw. But he paused as something flickered, then Eva reached back for him with a soothing warmth that made his breath catch. She was coming, and that simple fact sent sweeping relief through him so strongly that, inexplicably, he wanted to burst into tears.  
  
Sternly he tamped that weakness back into its iron box, and just in time for Eva popped into existence next to him, smiling. That smile faded as she looked at him, and when she sat he wanted to look away, embarrassed because he knew he must appear as awful as he felt. Her words banished that thought. "Hi. I've missed you." Involuntarily he smiled back. "I've missed you too."  
  
He started to say just how much he missed her, then caught himself and glanced away, a bit confused as to why his emotions were in such a turmoil. Even as his heart leapt at her presence, his stomach was clenching with nervousness. He sensed her waiting patiently but expectantly, and thrust away that confusion to search for something important to say to make her stay.  
  
His mind whirled with the events of the past two months, of what he knew was coming, and words spilled from him. "I . . . I don't know what to do. It's just . . . this whole war has messed everything up so badly . . . and ever since Sirius . . ." he swallowed hard around the lump in his throat that threatened to stop his voice, "I've been . . .well, afraid that I'll mess up again, and someone else will die because of me, because I made a mistake."  
  
Harry stopped abruptly, as he realized what he was saying and shame flooded him. Here he was, her protégé and great warrior for the light, War Mage and Phoenix Lord, and he was crying to her about his private insignificant fears. He huddled into himself, hiding like he used to as a child, then stopped and forced himself to straighten like a man, abandoning his babyish reaction.  
  
Eva stopped his mental floggings with a thoughtful tone. "So the game has changed, and you don't want and can't afford to sacrifice any more." He nodded, and a moment later she completely threw him off track. "Harry, did you ever learn how to ride a bike?" Startled, he wondered momentarily why she was asking stupid questions, but answered gamely, "No. Dudley had a few bikes but they never let me so much as touch them. Like I might infect them or something."  
  
Mentally he winced at the memories of long years at the Dursleys. He remembered the one time he did touch his cousin's old bike, a broken ten speed. Dudley had caught him examining the gears and punched him hard enough to crack a rib. Luckily Eva again interrupted his thoughts. "Okay then, think about riding your broom then."  
  
Unconsciously he smiled, recalling the overwhelming sense of freedom accompanying the wind in his hair and the pervading lightness of body and soul. "Were you able to do a perfect Wronski Feint the first time you tried?" That memory was still one of his favorites, more because of the reactions he got than the actual experience. "No. That first time I misjudged my timing and nearly splattered myself all over the Weasleys' backyard. Made Hermione scream louder than a banshee."  
  
Eva now had a determined gleams in here eyes, explaining the significance of his own perseverance. He was thinking about her words when a warm, soft hand touched his face to turn him towards her, but also leaving him surprisingly short of breath. Startled, he looked deep into her eyes, ears registering none of her words because his brain was currently preoccupied with drowning in those hazel eyes that radiated so much emotion: concern, determination, a suppressed happiness, and . . . no, he was seeing things.  
  
Flustered, Harry broke eye contact and muttered, "You sound like a fortune cookie," without really knowing what she had said. Instantly she kidded back, "Actually, that where I got it from. But my favorite is still, 'Help, I'm trapped in a fortune cookie factory!'" The sheer randomness made him snort with laughter and his spirits lifted a bit.  
  
Then her fingers moved from his cheek, trailing a path of sparking nerves down his jaw even as she noted with a frown, "Harry, you're freezing. How long have you been out here?" His mind raced frantically even as he shrugged; how long had it been? "A few hours, I don't know exactly. But I can't stand being inside right now."  
  
*Yes, because you're out here, with me,* his mind whispered, and mentally he slapped it, barely noticing that she was saying something about catching cold. Suddenly Eva was behind him, softly saying in his ear, "Let me warm you up," and then he was cocooned with warmth, her soft body wrapped around his back and a blanket encircling them both. Harry tensed, wide-eyed at the unexpected contact that sent shivers that had nothing to do with temperature through his body.  
  
Her arms clasped him tightly, protectively, bringing such a sense of security that consciously he relaxed back into her embrace. Her hands rubbed him gently and she murmured in his ear, "That better?" letting her warm breath tickle the side of his neck. Failing to suppress another shiver, he swallowed once and managed, "Much. Thank you."  
  
She seemed inordinately pleased, and while his eyes turned back to the sky his attention was solely fixed on the girl - no, woman - enveloping him, and the riot of emotions tumbling through him too fast to correctly decipher. What did she feel for him? What did he feel for her? Why did his heart seem to want to melt in a puddle, and his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth? He may have been skilled in the arts of war, but this was completely out of his range.  
  
A slight breath of air brushed his neck, and abruptly he realized she was . . . smelling him. Why? Her arms tightened again in a brief hug, and that additional pressure made him lean back into her and sigh away some tension. His hand, without communication from his whirling brain, took the initiative and stroked the backs of her hands, and distinctly he felt her heart flutter one.  
  
A smile curled his lips and his tongue loosened, deciding to risk it. "You know, I like coming up here, on the roof. It's a good place to think, to get away from everyone. It's private." He caught the slight quiver of muscle before she murmured, "Privacy is good." Encouraged by her tone but a bit hesitant, he twisted around to whisper huskily, "Especially for some things."  
  
Her lips captured his attention, their soft redness beckoning him closer, and when her tongue swept out to wet them he knew he was caught. Slowly, gently he pressed his mouth to hers, a bit awkward until she kissed him back with a sigh. The contact broke, and when he opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed, she smiled brightly and took the initiative to start again.  
  
*Okay, that wasn't so hard,* he vaguely thought as their hands spread and continued the kiss, communicating by touch more than words could say. She was so warm and soft, yet powerful, as he could feel the muscles trembling under his hands covered by silky skin. Remembering something Ron had once told him, he let his tongue touch her lips gently, and she immediately accepted the invitation. The kiss deepened as his sense narrowed down to just the feel of Eva . . . .  
  
Abruptly she disappeared, the blanket falling down around him in a puddle of material as the cocoon broke open, and all the warmth vanished with a flash of icy air. Goosebumps instantly prickled his skin and Harry felt like he'd been slapped . . .  
  
And then his eyes snapped open and he found himself in bed in the sixth year boys' dorm in Gryffindor Tower, tangled in his sheets and breathing hard. Disoriented, he glanced over and saw that the window had been cracked open, then flung wide open with a gust of wind. The ambient temperature nearly resembled the inside of an abandoned igloo. Groaning softly, Harry untangled himself as he raised a hand at the window, which promptly shut and latched itself.  
  
Shivering slightly, he curled back into his warm sheets, yawning as he thought, *Nice dream. More interesting that Voldemort anyway.* Then he shrugged to himself and fluffed his pillow. *It'll never happen.* Content and warm again, he dropped off to sleep to dream not of Eva, but Lady Death, bound by thick chains that shackled her to some shadowy figure who tugged her around like a puppet. 


	30. The Beginning of the End

A/N: I'm posting these two chapters close together because they're fairly short (well, shorter than my usual nowadays) and while they could have been combined, they work better separate. I'll probably not be able to post again for a while, because the new semester is starting up and I'll be busy packing, moving and starting classes. I only have a little bit left though, and I'll work on it as fast as I can. My Internet will work again! *dances with glee*  
  
Disclaimer: HP not mine. I don't own anything, not even this computer I'm typing on. Wait, I own my car. So if you really want to sue me, all you'll get is an old beat-up minivan, aka Loser Cruiser aka Albino Twinkie (long story, don't ask).  
  
Chapter 30  
  
Hermione sat at her usual table in the library, poring over one book out of many in the stack before her. Harry's new Dueling Club was exacting in the extreme, but she had enjoyed it not only for the mental challenge but also, strangely enough, the physical as well. Pushing herself to perfect the techniques that Eva had taught her over the summer, she found surprising levels of mental clarity that she relished while studying.  
  
Her fingers skimmed down the page looking for the proper incantations to a complex series of spells that she might be able to modify towards a new protective ward, this one more aggressive than anything she'd previously worked on. Humming tunelessly under her breath, she scribbled out her quick, precise notes on the parchment in front of her.  
  
Suddenly her vision was obscured by two large hands, and a voice asked teasingly, "Guess who?" Unseen, she rolled her eyes. "Now, let's see. There is only one person who would purposely disturb me while working, Ron." The hands were removed, and with a sigh Ron leaned over her shoulder as his arms wrapped around in a hug. "Just making sure you still knew who I was."  
  
Hermione met his eyes with a puzzled frown. "Of course I know who you are. It's kind of hard to forget." One red eyebrow arched. "Oh really?" The teasing was back in his voice. "What is it that makes me so hard to forget?" She appeared to consider it for a moment. "It could be the time just two days ago in the Common Room, when we were on the couch together." Ron smiled fondly. "That was interesting, wasn't it? Too bad those second years walked in on us." She huffed, "How many times do I have to tell you? It's a blanket, not an Invisibility Cloak."  
  
Ron chuckled. "Well, if you want, I could borrow Harry's Cloak." He waggled his eyebrows mischievously. "See what kind of trouble we could get up to with that." Hermione tried to scowl at him, but a matching grin kept tugging her lips upwards. Finally she gave up and sighed, "You're incorrigible." His breath tickled her neck as he whispered, "And you love it."  
  
She blushed a bit, but then her concentration was diverted by the sound of him inhaling deeply in her hair. "Ron, what are you doing?" "Smelling you," he said matter-of-factly. "Have I ever told you how much I love the way you smell?" The flush on her cheeks deepened as she nearly squeaked, "No." Cocking her head, she inquired, "What do I smell like?" Another deep exaggerated sniff. "Like books . . . and apples . . . and a touch of cinnamon." He nuzzled her neck. "Like . . . like Hermione. Sweet and spicy . . . and just you. That's why I like it so much."  
  
She wouldn't dare tell him, but that had to be the best compliment anyone had ever given her. Biting her lower lip as she smiled, she leaned back into his arms and tilted her head back. "So what are you up to now?" Leaning in, he brushed her lips with a quick kiss. "Just came over to see how well I could distract you from working." Catching her with another, longer kiss, he smirked. "I think I'm doing a pretty good job."  
  
He knelt behind her chair and wrapped his arms around her waist while his lips moved over her neck. Hermione tried to push him away. "Ron, no," she hissed, looking around, "Madame Pince will see us." "No she won't," he disagreed while nuzzling her shoulder. "She's too busy punishing the fourth years who were eating chocolate in the stacks." Despite herself, she was amused. "Let me guess where they got the chocolate. You?"  
  
Ron nodded proudly. "I plan my distractions well, and if it means giving up some of my precious stash," he nibbled her ear, "you're worth it." Grinning to herself, Hermione tilted her head to allow him better access even as she asked, "So, how are your morning workouts going?" "Fairly well. We're attracting more and more people who want to learn that form of self- defense." His lips were fire against her skin. "You should join us sometime. A few girls have come out, and you could help them."  
  
"Mmm, I just might at that." Hands were rubbing gentle circles on her stomach, almost ticklish. "Then again, I could just come and watch you sweat with your shirt off." He laughed softly at that. "You vixen." "You have no idea," she turned her head and kissed him fiercely, but had to break it off when they heard approaching footsteps. Ron released her and slouched in the chair next to her, and she turned back to her books and notes.  
  
Luckily it wasn't the librarian, only some Ravenclaws heading for the stacks behind them. After they passed, Hermione leaned over and whispered in her boyfriend's ear, "We'll pick this back up after dinner. Right now, I'm famished." With a wink she gathered up her things and headed for the doors, Ron trailing happily behind her with a grin plastered ear to ear.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Harry watched the students file out of the Great Hall chattering excitedly about the last session of the Dueling Club, and hid an inner smile. Only two weeks into the newly reinstated Dueling Club and most were showing a marked improvement. Even Neville, who normally was completely hopeless at dueling anyone other than Trevor his toad, had managed to master three more jinxes and was actually fairly good at dodging.  
  
His morning workouts with Ron at attracted attention and inquiries, and now five other students joined them regularly, with others popping in for a day or two at a time. This morning Ron had teased him that the only reason that girls such as Lavender, Parvati and Padma Patil and their friends showed up was because they wanted to watch Harry. Harry had simply grimaced eloquently and went back to his knife throwing.  
  
Sighing, he flopped down on the stage and fiddled with his wand, thinking. Halloween was the day after tomorrow and he mentally reviewed his preparations. The students were progressing very well, but battle would test them all. Hogwarts, with both its ancient inbuilt defenses and Harry's own additions, was as ready as it would ever be. The secret tunnels were sealed shut - but only on this end, he realized, not from the village.  
  
Hogsmeade was the weak link in their barriers, and he knew that he could improve on the defenses already there. Not to mention it might be good to review any plans the villagers remaining may have come up with. No time like the present. A shoe scuffed the floor, and Harry looked up to see Remus approaching him. "Harry, are you okay?" The teen shrugged and answered honestly, "I don't know. Things are just so screwed up right now, I'm not sure how I'm doing."  
  
He scrambled to his feet. "Anyway, I was going to come see you just now. I need to run down to Hogsmeade and seat the last tunnels from that end." Remus hesitated, then nodded. "I assume you'll be in disguise?" "Yeah. Should be a quick trip." Harry started for the doors, Remus a step behind. "Take a communicator charm with you, just in case."  
  
Harry threw him a side glance. There was an unusual amount of concern and stress in his eyes, which immediately put the teen on edge. "You know something I don't?" he asked quietly, and the professor winced. "Not really." He hesitated. "Just a feeling really. Like this storm is going to break sooner than we expected." Harry looked at him closely, suddenly with a strange feeling of his own.  
  
"I'll be careful," he promised. "I don't want this to be the last time we see each other." Remus breathed out a sigh. "Hopefully soon, this will be all over." Unexpectedly he gave Harry a quick hug, then pulled away. The teen smiled and squeezed his shoulder briefly before turning away and exiting the castle.  
  
Out of sight, Harry assumed the innocuous disguise he had utilized the last Hogsmeade trip and Apparated away. He appeared right in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks and casually strolled out into the street. Hogsmeade, even more than before, had the feeling of a town under siege. Most of the stores were closed and boarded up, except for a few dimly lit ones scattered here and there. A gaping blackened hole occupied the space Weasley Wizard Wheezes once stood, and Harry swallowed hard before steeling himself.  
  
Carefully he walked the perimeter of the village, noting the extent of the wards and reinforcing them as needed. Then he turned back into town for his main job. Honeydukes was open, but on one appeared when the bell over the door jingled with his entrance. Harry waited, browsing through the meager supply on the shelves, but still no one came to investigate.  
  
Shrugging, he ducked behind the counter and descended to the cellar. Locating the trap door after a minute's searching, he briefly entered the tunnel to set defenses on the inside and sealed it shut on his way out. Exiting the strangely deserted store, he glanced around before heading up to the Shrieking Shack. He tested every single possible entrance accessible save burning the building down, then Apparated inside to seal the tunnel just to frustrate that possibility.  
  
By now night had fallen fully, and Harry had to pick his way carefully down the hill back to the main street. The only bright lights came from the Three Broomsticks, and he paused, concerned about the number of shadows outlined in the illuminated windows. Cautiously he approached, hand hovering near his wand just in case as he stuck to the shadows. Voices could be faintly heard, and from what little was comprehensible it sounded like a meeting was taking place.  
  
Suddenly Harry felt the business end of a wand poke the middle of his back and a harsh voice sounds from behind him. "Alright stranger, who are you and what are you doing here?" He relaxed infinitesimally, reigning in his automatic reactions; to disarm and Stun the man senseless. "I'm a friend," he offered, "and I'm here on business." The man behind him snorted. "Yeah right, a 'friend' creeping around after dark. What's your business, Death Eater? Come to check our defenses before your buddies attack?"  
  
Harry sighed. "Listen, I just need to speak with Madame Rosmerta. She knows me." "Oh really?" The man was darkly amused. "Tell me why I should risk it and not kill you right here." "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already," Harry stated flatly, exasperated with this game and whishing he had just neutralized the man to begin with.  
  
He decided on a little gamble. "Around here, I'm known as Wraith." "Huh? Wraith?" The man was confused for a second only, then horrified realization colored his tone. "Oh! Wraith . . . Right. Um, sure, I . . . uh, I'll just let Ros know you're here. Wait here a second." The wand disappeared and the man hurried along the side of the building, no doubt heading for the back door. Harry just shook his head.  
  
A minute passed, during which a short lull of conversation in the pub let him know that he had been announced, then the front door opened and Madame Rosmerta walked slowly out with her wand trained steadily at his chest. He squinted in the light blinding him, and after a long moment she said, "It's all right. He's a friend." Lowering her wand, she beckoned him inside and he hurried in after her.  
  
The light and warmth of the pub was a nice contrast to the chilly night outside, all serving to lift his spirits just a bit. Harry flashed the barkeep a smile, which she returned as she handed him a bottle of hot butterbeer. With a wink she said, "I believe you ordered this last time." He chuckled. "Indeed I did. And the students pass on their thanks to you for the excellent addition to dinner."  
  
Sipping and glancing around, he noticed many eyes staring at him, only to flick away as he met them. Inconspicuously he sighed; figures. "So what's going on here? Town meeting?" Rosmerta shook her head a bit. "More like a war council. We want to be fully prepared for whatever happens, but most have left. What you see here," she gestured around at the perhaps thirty people in the room, "is all we have left."  
  
She pointed out a slightly mad-looking older man with shaggy hair and bright purple robes. "That's Artemis Zonko. He's heading up our efforts. Apparently he didn't take too kindly to what the Death Eaters did to Weasley Wizard Wheezes." Harry added to himself, "Nor did I." However, Rosmerta overheard him and shot him a calculating look. Conspiratorially she leaned close and murmured, "Last time you introduced yourself as Mr. Potter. Now you're Wraith."  
  
Her unspoken question mocked him and he sighed. "Yes I am." That innocent statement confirmed her question and she nodded thoughtfully. He glared briefly at her. "Keep that a secret." Rosmerta only nodded and shrugged slightly. "None of my business. And I wouldn't be a very popular bartender if I went around telling other's secrets."  
  
Zonko chose that moment to throw a scowl in their general direction. "If we can get down to business," he said pointedly, and Rosmerta rolled her eyes a bit before giving him a patient look. He sniffed, then pulled himself up with a slightly martial air and announced, "Very well. Have we all completed individual defenses in our shops and homes?"  
  
There was a general murmur of agreement, and he beamed. "Excellent. The village itself is as protected as we can make it magically, what with all the wards guarding the perimeters. Mr. Fowler, Ms. Whitecaster and I have been adding physical defenses as well." He signaled, and a youngish-looking wizard with long blonde hair spread out a map of Hogsmeade over the surface of several tables grouped together.  
  
Zonko used his wand to point out their new obstacles as he described them. "We've dug giant hidden trenches here and here; placed some traps and mines courtesy of the Aurors just insides the ward perimeters all around; at these chokepoints barriers have been set up with a few more surprises on them; all empty shops have been reinforced; they will be our walls." Soon the map was covered with glowing dots and wiggling lines; it was more confusing that Oliver Wood's Quidditch models.  
  
"When the attack comes, here's where we're going to make our stand." He indicated four chokepoints among the barriers and buildings closest to the Three Broomsticks. "They outnumber us, but we have the element of surprise and a few tricks up our sleeves." Now his face, obviously used to smiling and laughing, turned uncharacteristically solemn.  
  
"We all know that in reality, we have no chance to repel them. There are no reinforcements coming. What we can do is slow them up and take as many down as we can. " Zonko met every eye in the bar. "Do no throw away your lives uselessly in grand heroics. When it gets too tough, retreat fighting back here to the pub. The Floo is open one-way to the Hogwarts dungeons, where you have the choice of hiding out or assisting the fight there."  
  
He sighed, words sending a ripple through the gathered townspeople. "I'll not mince words. We're in for the fight of our lives. I've no doubt that Hogsmeade itself is doomed, but as long as we survive, we can rebuild. First, we just have to kick You-Know-Who back to the slimy pit he crawled from and make sure he stays there!"  
  
The momentary melancholy was gone, replaced by bright eyes twinkling with certain determination. The mood brightened considerably, and his last statement induced some faint cheers and much applause. Harry observed it all quietly, examining their strategy. He raised a hand to attract Zonko's attention, then said, "I've an idea." The old jokemaster frowned a second, but with a look from Rosmerta nodded his head. "Go on."  
  
Harry gestured at the map. "The village is not their real target. They will go straight through Hogsmeade to Hogwarts to press their attack. So if some of you can stay behind, hiding outside the village and following them up to the castle, we can catch them in a two-pronged attack of our own. The more we split their attention, the more our chances of survival increase."  
  
Several men appeared thoughtful, and Zonko beckoned him up beside him at the map. "Interesting idea. But where could we hide? And how do we follow them without being spotted ourselves?" Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the mountains outside the village. "Everyone will be needed for the Hogsmeade attack. But when you fall back, have some Portkeys here to transport some of your best fighters up here. There's a cave to hide in if some scouts are creeping around.  
  
"Take some brooms and fly back, keeping low over the forest. Disillusionment charms would help also. You might beat the Death Eaters there, so hide at the edge of the woods until they've fully engaged at Hogwarts, then fall on them from behind and at a slight angle, here. That'll confuse them, especially if you attack from the forest and use the trees to shield you. I've noticed they are not particularly good at hide and seek when they're not the ones hiding."  
  
That drew a few weak chuckles, but for the most part everyone studied the glowing lines and new arrows wiggling around the map. Zonko pursed his lips and stroked his chin. "We'll need a force of no less than eight, all with brooms." He looked up. "Volunteers?" Immediately most of the remaining townspeople raised their hands, and he arched an eyebrow. "Okay, who's played Quidditch before? In a real game, not just flyin' around your backyard. You may be fighting on those brooms."  
  
Now only twelve were left, and he considered them for a long moment before nodding. "All right, prepare yourselves well for this. There's no guarantee we'll all make it back here alive at all." They nodded, even though a few now were pale faced with nerves. Harry was studying the map again. "Who here can produce a corporeal Patronus?"  
  
A few people raised their hands, and he indicated one blockade at the end of main street. "Station yourselves here. I don't know how many dementors are left, but you can be they'll be the first ones in. drive them off, then scatter through the village so the Death Eaters can't take you all out at once."  
  
They continued like that, Harry and Zonko, for some time as they examined the map, plotting strategy and a few surprises for the invaders, trying to maximize their survival. Harry wished that Ron were down here; he was the strategic whiz. Still, this was rather fascinating and encouraging to see these people come together as one to defend their homes.  
  
Zonko only glanced up when the clock chimed twelve, blinking in surprise. "Where has the time gone?" Rosmerta smiled wryly from behind the bar as she washed a couple of glasses. "Where time always goes. There's a big black hole somewhere in the center of the galaxy that sucks it all away." Harry chuckled as he ran a hand over his eyes, blinking away grittiness. "I'll have to remember that one."  
  
Glancing around, he saw the varying levels of fatigue in the crowd. "I believe that's all we can really do tonight. How 'bout we all go home and get some sleep?" One man raised his head from his contemplation of a tiny glass of gillywater and mumbled, "Hear, hear." With a scrape of tables and chairs, everyone slowly emptied the tavern to head for soft beds. Zonko kissed Rosmerta's hand goodnight and exited with his map.  
  
Harry grinned and stretched kinks out of his back. "Goodnight," he called as he walked towards the door, and the barkeep echoed, "Goodnight, and sweet dreams." Wearily he made his way up the street towards Hogwarts, feeling too tired to Apparate safely. It would be embarrassing to splinch himself and end up with a leg on Main Street, an arm at the front gates, and his nose in his bed. But as the cold night air cut through his cloak he reflected that maybe he should try it anyways.  
  
Pulling his cloak tighter around him, he hurried along the path as it cut by the Forbidden Forest, thinking of the fire crackling in the Tower and the warming pan between his sheets. The cold seemed strange tonight, too frosty for October as it numbed his fingers and nose. Suddenly the cold came alive, burrowing past his cloak and skin to lodge in his bones and freeze his heart. Shaking, he stopped and turned, seeing nothing but blackness around him. But he heard things.  
  
Long cloaks whispering over frozen ground . . . slow rattling breaths sucking all life from the air . . . and faint screaming inside his head.  
  
Gasping for air even as the cold strangled him, Harry pulled his wand and muttered, "Lumos." The light revealed nothing, but he pointed it around, searching =for what he knew was there. Something flickered at the edge of his sight, and he spun in time for his light to reflect dully off a gray, slimy, scabrous hand before it vanished into the gloom of the forest.  
  
Where was it headed, the village or Hogwarts? He stalked forward, trying to catch a glimpse of it again, when a strong pair of hands caught his shoulders and spun him around. The wand was knocked from his fingers but stayed lit as it clattered to the ground. By its feeble light he looked up foggily at the unhooded face of a dementor, gaping mouth open and swooping down to meet his.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
Destiny looked up from her book as Fate stomped in and threw herself on the couch, muttering darkly, and calmly marked her placed before inquiring, "Something vexes you, sister?" Fate rolled her eyes. "Sister, if you would get your nose out of those books and take a look around you, you would know." She flipped over to stare at the other Guardian. "Death refuses to cooperate. She's deliberately breaking all the laws governing the realms and our very existence, but she claims it's not her fault!"  
  
She snorted derisively. "She lets herself be ordered around, blames me, and can't even manage her own realms effectively. Can you believe that a couple of mortals actually asked me to send them back?!" Destiny let her rant and rave some more, nodding in all the right places, while she pulled out a thick tome and flipped towards the back.  
  
When Fate finally ran out of steam and her hair changed back to a neutral brown from the wild spectrum it had been going through, Destiny arched her eyebrow. "Sister dear, you are merely seeing the consequences to your own decisions. See what happens when you meddle?" Fate threw up her hands in exasperation.  
  
"That's exactly what Death said! But don't you dare try to blame this all on me," she added warningly. "I did my job to the letter. Death is the one who screwed it all up into this . . . this catastrophe! I never said anything about letting Lucifer out of his playpen, yet he's down there right now wreaking havoc."  
  
She reflected bitterly, "At least Chaos is happy, even if he's the only one." Destiny nodded distractedly, flipping black hair out of her blue eyes. "He's easy to please. But here's what I'm talking about." One finger thumped the page she was currently perusing, and Fate leaned over to see. "Here's how I had it all planned out. Time-consuming on human standards, but simple. Then you let those two fall in love."  
  
She traced a slight tangent. "Try to stay out of Love's debt next time; she likes to meddle nearly as much as you do. It wasn't really a big problem at first, but I had to push up the timing, which in turn started the ball rolling. Then Death got involved with her current agenda and I had to account for a few extra deaths," the tangent went wider and farther from the original, "which meant I had to change my plans here and here."  
  
Fate rested her chin in her hand, idly rubbing her dice with the other. "But as I see it, you could have deviated back to the main path here," her finger poked the page right in front of the other's, "with very little effort. Instead, it went the other way. Why?" Destiny sighed and shook out her black hair. "That is where you let the mortals pick the trainer."  
  
Fate frowned and was about to reply when Destiny cut her off. "We could have disguised one of the Shamak'la and sent them to teach, but no." Her voice dripped sarcasm. "Your meddling mandate kicked in. Admittedly, it did help with the prophecy, but I had planned on saving that for later. He never should have been sent away." Now the path twisted and turned like a drunken sailor's walk, sometimes doubling back on itself or splitting briefly, a far cry from the straight-line path before.  
  
Destiny slammed the tome shut with a loud band, and for a long minute the sisters stared at each other. "Are you mad at me?" Fate murmured curiously, and Destiny let her lip quirk. "No. How can I be? You're doing your job as you see best. You haven't done anything really wrong." She shot Fate a mischievous look. "You're just being your usual infuriating self. I'm used to it. Almost."  
  
Mollified but not happy, Fate relaxed back into the couch. "So now what will happen? What are we going to do?" Destiny sighed wearily, shelving her tome amid hundred of thousands like it. "We can do nothing. For now, it's out of our hands." She looked into the distance, as if trying to read the books of distant Future. "All we can do is see how it plays out. And be on hand to clean up the mess afterwards."  
  
Fate muttered softly, "If we are still here." 


	31. First Strike

A/N: Okay, I had a lot of problems uploading this chapter. While it looked fine when I first uploaded it, somewhere in the transition ff.net decided to delete all but 4 paragraphs of a 15 page chapter. *growls murderously at the computer* Sorry to all those people who looked forward to this update and then got so amazingly confused at the mess up there.  
  
Yeah yeah yeah, I know it's been over two months. Sorry about the long wait, but in real life that's what happens. College really gets in the way of my free time. You're just lucky that I'm an insomniac, for I have been awake for the past 30 hours, and spent a good portion of that writing these next three chapters until my hands wouldn't stop shaking. Excellence through sleep deprivation!!  
  
If you like this, I also write original fiction, mainly short stories, so just pop over to fictionpress and check out my other stuff. I'd really appreciate it, as I've just posted two new ones. It's posted under psychochick3.  
  
November is National Novelists Writer's Month, so I'm trading off between working on this and a new original idea that I'm playing around with, and reading a wonderful story by my friend Raven. Hopefully the next post won't be two months away, but rather two days.  
  
Thanks to aconite for being my 500th reviewer. That gave me the impetus to post this next chapter.  
  
Hey mickeymoose, of course smoke inhalation can't kill Padfoot. Of course, neither could falling through a veil. *wink* And you never said anything about poison.  
  
d.triksta, SerenityBliss, I am working on publishing my own work, such as what I have over at fictionpress. This is just for fun. Thanks.  
  
Ashione, I especially liked my fic being compared to a car crash. Really made my day. Yeah, this is pretty dark, but that's what happens. You write what you know, and I know people with problems. I am people with problems. I can't write the sappy happy fics (as proven by my earlier attempts at fluffy chapters *winces*).  
  
And thank you to all who reviewed and/or put me on their favorites lists, for you are my driving force at times, and my encouragement to keep going despite it all .Wish I could answer all my reviewers, but I simply don't have the time or energy.  
  
Disclaimer: I'm not JRK, so I don't own Harry Potter. I'm surviving off rice and Ramen, so obviously I'm not making any money off of this. You recognize anything, then I probably don't own it. Anything you don't recognize is mine, and if I catch you using it without my permission, you'll find out why I'm called psychochick, and how I can write accurately about weapons.  
  
Now where did I leave off? Oh yes . . . .  
  
Chapter 31  
  
The freezing October wind whipped around Harry as he swooned back, senses reeling in icy fog as the dementor closed in for its meal. *Fight . . . must . . . wand,* disjointed thoughts swirled in his numbed brain, but he couldn't move through his fatigue. Screams, both male and female, echoed in his head along with high-pitched laughter and the crackle of poisonous flames.  
  
He was drowning, falling towards darkness blacker and colder than space, and could do nothing to stop his fall. The dementor clamped its hands tightly around his face and pressed its hideous gaping mouth to his. Even as he gagged on its putrid breath, the touch was a grim parody of that dream, with Eva . . .  
  
Her smiling image flashed through his mind, bringing a sudden rush of clarity and instinctively he shoved away from the creature, feeling the jaws nearly rip from his as the first deadly inhalation scrabbled for him. Harry tumbled back to the hard ground, disoriented and winded, but still backed away from the dementor.  
  
An inhuman sound echoed from it, frustrated at the denial of its prize, and resumed stalking him with icy menace that crawled over him in a suffocating wave. He continued to fall back, and then his fingers touched the wood of his wand. With Eva's face foremost in his mind, he whipped up his wand and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"  
  
The silver stag erupted out to tackle the dementor straight in the chest, driving it back from Harry. The creature turned and fled into the woods, so the stag turned back to its creator with a bow before disappearing. Harry sat there for several long moments, gulping in deep breaths to fight the leftover nausea and wiping cold sweat from his face.  
  
That had been too close. Looking down at his wand, he was surprised to see the watch on his wrist; the Weasleys' communicator charm. Remus needed to know about the dementors. Tapping it with his wand, he was relieved to hear his professor answer within seconds. "Lupin here."  
  
"Remus, it's Harry." "Harry!" There was no mistaking the relief in his voice. "Where are you? I expected you back at the castle a while ago." Harry rubbed the back of his neck in consternation. "Yeah, well, I stumbled on a defense meeting and decided it'd be worth my while to help them out. Listen, I just ran into a dementor."  
  
The Order's leader sounded shocked but mostly calm. "Did it have friends? Where was it headed?" "I'm not sure. I only saw the one, but more probably went past in the dark. I chased it into the woods, but I couldn't tell which direction." Remus made a small noise in the back of his throat as he thought for a minute.  
  
"Hmm. Okay, I'll post a couple of guards up tonight on the castle, but you'll have to alert Hogsmeade. Keep a sharp eye out." "Will do," Harry promised, then tapped the communicator to break the link. Digging though his pockets, he found a slightly squashed Chocolate Frog to melt away the lingering dementor effects.  
  
Wearily he forced himself back towards Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks. Hopefully Madame Rosmerta hadn't closed up yet. As long as she knew, she could alert the rest of the village to be on the lookout. The entire trip he kept his wand out, senses alert for dementors, but made it unhindered to the tavern where Rosmerta was just putting out the lights.  
  
He knocked on the door, and startled she glanced through the windows with wand drawn. Catching sight of him, she lowered her wand and opened the door with a frown. "What's the matter?" "Dementors," he sighed. "Attacked me on the road. I managed to drive it off, but I'm not sure which direction they headed. Just wanted the people here to be on the lookout; they're hungry tonight."  
  
Rosmerta took the news calmly, already scribbling notes and charming them to go flapping out the doors to their recipients. Harry wondered on the advisability of that; it worked fine for inside office buildings, but outside the notes could blow away, or often get sidetracked or lost. She must know what she was doing.  
  
The message passed, Harry turned to leave again, stumbling slightly with fatigue as he headed for the door. But the barkeep saw that and grabbed his arm, steadying him. "Oh no you don't. You're too tired to trek back to the castle. I'll make up one of the rooms here for you tonight. You can go back in the morning."  
  
He started to protest, but she cut him off. "No arguing, Mr. Potter. Besides, if the dementors do show you can help, but not if you're passed out on the road." A bit reluctantly he gave in, but was never more glad in his life when Rosmerta opened the door to a cozy room with a feather bed and crackling fire, a mug of hot chocolate steaming on the beside table.  
  
Thanking her as she bid goodnight, he waited until her footsteps descended the stairs before collapsing on the bed and activating the communicator. "Hey Remus." There was a pause before Remus answered. "Harry, when are you headed back here?" The teen sighed. "Not tonight. Rosmerta's worried I wouldn't make it back up, so she fairly ordered me to sleep here."  
  
"Are you all right?" Weary as he was, Harry was almost glad to hear the faint note of worry. "Yeah, just exhausted. I'll grab a few hours of sleep here then Apparate back. Right now I'm too tired to move." Remus chuckled. "I know the feeling all too well. Very well, sleep tight and come see me in the morning. Call if there's problems."  
  
"You too," Harry warned, then took a sip of the hot chocloate. "If anything happens there, call me in. other than that, see you in the morning." "Night," came the reply, then the link cut out. Yawning, Harry kicked off his boots and stripped his cloak and outer tunic, then crawled under the warm covers.  
  
Exhausted as he was, he still puzzled over the dementors. He expected them to show up with the demons, just like the battle at Auror Headquarters. Unless there were rogue ones, no longer under Voldemort's control? That didn't seem likely, but still . . . . which way had they gone? Perhaps they were lurking in the forest, waiting for a signal until they approached the human inhabited areas.  
  
His thoughts crawled slowly as his consciousness fled the waking world, falling into dreamless sleep.  
  
********************************************  
  
Loud pounding on the door jolted Harry awake, and instantly he shout out of bed to the door, wide awake. Madame Rosmerta stood there, wide-eyed and shaking. "What?" he barked, and she focused on him, panicking. "Demons," she breathed. "They've breached the outer wards, heading this way! We . . . we can't defend against them!"  
  
Harry swore softly to himself. He hadn't planned on demons in the village. He should have thought of that. All their planning from last night was essentially useless now. Suddenly a loud explosion rattled the windows from outside, and dust feel from the rafters. Rosmerta jumped, and Harry pushed past her to run down the stairs. Flickering red shadows gleamed through the windows, and he could just see the source.  
  
A building that had once been a tea shop was now a mass of flaming rubble, and instinctively he ducked as flaming debris fell around the tavern. He stepped out the door to get a better view. Flashes in the near distance showed where the wards were under attack, and already a few dark shapes were loping up the street.  
  
The crackle and pop of burning wood was punctuated by snarls and clanging metal, as well as screams from the few humans left in Hogsmeade. Harry ducked back inside and ran back up to his room to grab his clothes, where he found Rosmerta staring wildly out the windows. He grabbed her arm, snapping her back to reality.  
  
"Go get the fire going downstairs. Everyone will be coming here; you need to evacuate them to Hogwarts. Got that?" he ordered, and she nodded firmly, momentary panic gone now, and ran downstairs. Checking his watch, Harry was surprised to see that it was nearly dawn, and he'd managed to get a fair amount of sleep. He'd need all his strength for the coming fight.  
  
Harry threw on his clothes, then realized something important and cursed himself aloud. He couldn't very well fight a war with just a few knives and a wand. Most of his weapons were back in his room at Hogwarts.  
  
Gathering concentration, he Apparated briefly up to his dorm and grabbed his weapons while the guys slept on obliviously. With another small crack he was back in the Three Broomsticks as if he had never left.  
  
Strapping his weapons to their proper places, he tapped the communicator and yelled, "Remus!" Nobody answered, and cursing yet again he concentrated on conjuring the clone. Once Harry stood there next to him, he ordered him back to alert Hogwarts of the attack, and as the air cracked from Apparation behind him, he ran down to the bar, letting his disguise shift to that of Wraith.  
  
Already the villagers were starting to trickle in, and the wards flashed as more and more demons punched through. Rosmerta stood by the fireplace, directing the evacuation and sending people through 15 seconds apart, the green light from the flames creating a counterpoint to the red outside.  
  
Wraith shoved past a group of women just coming through the door and raced outside. Demons were starting to pour in, lobbing grenades in every direction ahead of them, and quickly Wraith cast a Banishing spell that flung them back over the hoard.  
  
The explosions lit up the streets with staccato bursts of lightning. Spotting several more people running from the advancing army, he shouted, "Accio!" and suddenly they all came flying towards him.  
  
They landed at his feet, and roughly he got them up and shoved them toward the tavern. "Get out of here," he growled, and they obeyed instantly. Just as the last one, who he recognized as Zonko in his purple robes, passed through the doors, another gigantic explosion rocked the streets and the blast shoved Wraith to the ground as a wave of scorching air rolled over him.  
  
For one instant he feared it had been the Three Broomsticks, but a single glance confirmed the bar was intact, save broken windows from the shock wave. That explosion had been Zonko's shop going the way of Weasley Wizard Wheezes, scattering multi-colored flames over the town as his stock of Filibuster's Fireworks all ignited at once. Some hit the roof of Honeydukes, which smoldered before flames began consuming it and the building.  
  
Wraith scrambled to his feet and sprinted away from the tavern; the battle lines had to be forward the evacuation point. Heat prickled his face, cooled only slightly by sweat as he stopped briefly to assess the situation, letting a predatory smile tug his lips. Adrenaline pumped through him, making his sense come alive, marvelously clear and sharp. This would be a fight worthy of a War Mage.  
  
Wraith stood in the main street of Hogsmeade, backlit by Honeydukes as it collapsed completely in a shower of fire and smoke. The demons caught sight of him and snarled with recognition, clanging their weapons together in a hideous cacophony of noise, calling reinforcements. They gathered in a wall of stinking flesh and metal, and for a single moment all was still as the combatants sized the opposition.  
  
Wraith made the first move - he smiled, cocked his arm and threw a small object into the crowd. It landed in one creature's hand, and it stared stupidly at the loaded Spell Sphere. Then it, and a dozen of its friends, disappeared in a violent explosion that threw demons into the buildings around them.  
  
Wraith used the minor distraction to pull his staff and sword, then charged.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Neville Longbottom never told anyone about his dreams; after all, unless your nightmares have you screaming so loudly the whole tower wakes up, no one asks. And most would assume that Neville's dreams were just like any other sixteen year old boy's. But Neville was blessed with a particularly active imagination that made his dream life very interesting. Tonight was no exception.  
  
He dreamed of dinner in the Great Hall, with everyone talking and laughing just like they used to while eating the delicious food. The fact that Seamus was wearing a dress and Ron had purple hair was inconsequential. When Professor McGonagall started up a lively tune on the bagpipes, Neville asked Professor sprout for a dance, during which he never stomped on her feet.  
  
This good atmosphere shattered when the denizens of the portraits vanished and demons started leaping out of them. Malfoy shrieked like a girl promptly before being ripped in half. Harry jumped to his feet, crying, "To your placemats!" Neville quickly snatched up a placemat from the Gryffindor table and swung it at a demon, which howled once before crumbling to dust.  
  
Encouraged and enlightened, all the students followed his lead and grabbed the placemats from the tables, flapping them around everywhere. The demons couldn't touch the students for fear of the placemats, and Neville led the way in demolishing all of them. Thick grey dust settled over the entire Hall and Hermione started complaining how the house elves would have to clean it all up . . . .  
  
A terrific BOOM shook Neville from his dream, Hermione's shrill voice fading away as he sat up wildly with a short yell. Confused mumblings and cursing let him know his roommates were awake, so the sound hadn't been imagined. He yanked the hangings away from his bed and stumbled over to the window, tripping over Trevor the toad and nearly landing in Dean's bed.  
  
Ron was trying to untwist his bedcovers from his legs while demanding to know what was happening. Rubbing his eyes, Neville stared out the window. The predawn gray was giving way to a fiery red-gold, but not from the east. A pillar of smoke and flame rose from beyond the Forbidden Forest, and he had to blink several times just to make sure his eyes were working properly.  
  
"Hogsmeade," he muttered stupefied, "the village's on fire." "WHAT?!?" There was a scramble towards the window as the other three pushed their way over to see for themselves. Wait, three? Neville glanced at Harry's bed; it hadn't been touched. Harry had never come in last night, but Neville was willing to bet he was down in the village right now.  
  
He returned to the window, half-expecting to somehow catch a glimpse of his errant friend, but something else caught his eye. Dark shapes were starting up the path to Hogwarts from the forest, gliding across the lawns like malignant shadows. Behind them came more shapes, lumpy and hulking and stomping with tree-like feet as wicked clubs gouged the ground.  
  
Finally, just visible in the dim gray dawn, the gates of Hogwarts gave way for more human creatures, the rippling wave of black robes only broken by bone-white masks. Neville had barely assimilated the fact that dementors, trolls, giants and Death Eaters were attacking when Ron yanked them back from the window, yelling "Come on! We have to go!"  
  
Just then a loud siren sounded through the castle, wailing with enough force to waken any sleeper. The teens jumped, then scrambled into clothes, grabbed their wands and raced for the Common Room. Already people were flooding into it, wide-eyed and babbling in confusion and terror. Ron scanned the room for Hermione and quickly spotted her bushy hair by the fire place.  
  
Just as he reached her side, the siren cut off to be replaced with Remus Lupin's amplified voice. "We're under attack. Professors and older students, report to the main entrance hall. Prefects, lead the younger students to the dungeons. You know the drill. Let's move!"  
  
Ron breathed out a quick sigh of relief as the rising terror in the room was dampened by courage and determination, then raised his voice to get their attention. "All right! First through third years, follow Hermione. Everyone else, get going." He gave his girlfriend a quick kiss as the Common Room began to empty and said quietly, "I'll bring up the rear."  
  
She nodded once and immediately took charge. "Keep together and stay alert! Now follow me." The small crowd diligently flocked behind her closely as they hurried from their tower and joined their classmates deeper and deeper beneath the school. Professor Trelawney and Madame Pomfrey took charge of them, and the prefects raced back upstairs to the main hall.  
  
Seamus greeted Ron and Hermione with a frown. "Why aren't we in the Great Hall?" Ron shook his head. "Too exposed with all those windows and post openings. It's not defensible enough." Spotting the professors and the Order, he pushed his way to them and found Harry issuing some instructions.  
  
The War Mage acknowledged his friend with a nod, then continued, "The guard on the roof have temporarily driven the dementors back, but they'll keep coming. I need to activate the school defenses now." Remus made the call on his communicator charm, then reported, "They're inside now." Harry nodded, grabbed Ron's arm and with a "crack!" the world about them shifted and reformed into the Phoenix Chamber.  
  
Ron staggered and nearly fell, complaining, "Bloody hell! Warn me before you do that!" He wondered briefly if Apparation was always like that, or just because they were going through the wards. With their arrival a wall lit up to show the outside of the castle, then Harry tapped the marble table itself, and Ron watched, amazed, as a three-dimensional model of Hogwarts and the grounds rose up, including every living creature in animation.  
  
The screens flashed with information as it was played out on the table. Harry let a small smile flicker as he saw Ron's enrapt face, then tapped the table again and said, "Activate Hogwarts defenses." A shuddering rumbled echoed through the castle, and Ron could nearly feel the magic shifting around him. The model Hogwarts now glowed golden and as they watched, several shaped detached themselves from the castle and set upon the invaders.  
  
"Gargoyles with animation charms, like McGonagall's giant chess set. Direct them verbally or with your wand. We've got trap sequences similar to Auror HQ, but I'm not sure if they've got demons in reserves besides the ones in Hogsmeade. There are a few more modifications in the walls that self- activate. Keep people out of the towers. I'm going down there, so good luck."  
  
Ron nodded acknowledgment of Harry's rapid-fire commands and instructions, then glanced at the screen showing Hogsmeade, where a single green-white dot was nearly overrun with gray. "Wait," he turned, "you're . . ." "Yeah. Later." Harry disappeared with a pop and his dot flashed into existence at the same time a little marble figure coalesced just behind the ranks of Dark creatures.  
  
Ron shrugged and began directing the battle of Hogwarts.  
  
*********************************************  
  
The stench itself was indescribable, flowing through the air like a living thing to choke the breath out of Wraith's lungs. He dragged in another breath, grimacing as he felt it burn, and shoved the demon corpse off his legs just in time to kick aside a sword flashing in a downward slash. His hand scrabbled for his sword, and with a quick thrust and twist the demon fell.  
  
For the moment Wraith was clear, and he rolled to his feet as he surveyed the situation. He stood surrounded by piles of stinking poisoned flesh oozing blood to pollute the soil itself. Several buildings were gone, the structures and dreams within consumed by fire; the Hog's Head had gone up spectacularly as all the liquor caught fire.  
  
He spotted about a dozen or so demons left, most closing in on the Three Broomsticks, but from the frantic hoots and shrieks in the Post Office at least one was in there partaking of a snack. Wraith narrowed his eyes, veins still thrumming with energy along with determination to erase this scourge.  
  
His staff leapt into his grasp at his call, and as the ruby flamed brightly all the remaining demons were snatched into the air, one still trailing owl feathers. He directed them into a tight group beyond the village, hovering mere meters above the forest, then a burst of Elemental fire incinerated them, leaving a few stray ashes drifting on the wind.  
  
Wraith wiped sweat from his brow and stalked back towards the Three Broomsticks as he activated his communicator charm. "Wraith here." "Lupin here." "Village secure. Inhabitants evacuated. Demons destroyed."  
  
"Good. Now get back here. We're under attack." Startled, Wraith glanced up just in time to see a great gout of flame shoot up over the trees, and Remus breathed out an involuntary curse.  
  
Wraith simply said, "I'm on it," cut off the charm, and Apparated into the battle.  
  
********************************************  
  
The forest was on fire, a ring of flames surrounding the trees bordering the Hogwarts grounds. Harry ducked then rolled forward as a massive club came within an ace of trimming his hair to the level of his chest. Unfortunately, this troll was smarter than the one in the girl's bathroom so long ago, and he scrambled away as the club smashed down, catching the edge of his cloak.  
  
Cursing to himself, Harry leapt farther back, pulled out his boot knife and threw it with unerring accuracy into the creature's neck. The troll bellowed in pain once, then the poison kicked in and it fell with a crash, dead. Harry plucked the knife out on the run, heading for the group of trolls attempting to smash in the front doors.  
  
The communicator on his watch shouted with Ron's voice, "Leave them! Concentrate on the dementors!" "Where?" he yelled back, skidding to a halt and scanning for the cloaked monstrosities. "Grouping by Hagrid's cabin. I'll handle the trolls." Harry wheeled around and sprinted across the lawns, spotting the dementors by the forest, back dropped by raging flames.  
  
Suddenly he impacted something with bruising force and went sprawling backwards with blood streaming from his nose. Shaking his head to clear the stars from it, he sat up just as the person he ran into did the same, and through watering eyes recognized the brick wall imitator. "Wraith!" he yelled furiously, tapping his nose gingerly with his wand to heal it.  
  
His counterpart rubbed at his split lip, scowling. "Aren't you running in the wrong direction?" "No." Harry pointed at the dementors gliding towards them. Wraith craned his neck round, smiled ferally and grasping his staff, shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"  
  
Immediately the three gold animals charged the dementors, which faltered in their advance before behind hit. Wraith and Harry watched as they burst into flickers of dark flame, then turned back to the castle.  
  
Ron had apparently figured out how to work the rest of the defenses, for Hogwarts was attacking back with a vengeance. Stones creaked and groaned as the gargoyles dispatched the last of the trolls, and the giants couldn't figure out how their weapons had suddenly been snatched from their hands by the rippling stone battlements.  
  
Giant tentacles of some fibrous material snaked from the base of the castle to ensnare the invaders in place. One giant, a 20 foot tall make with a nose like a moss-covered boulder, roared out his frustration as he ripped at the vines, but for every one that gave way, three took its place. Soon he was wrapped tighter than a mummy, and the tentacles contracted and squeezed.  
  
Great snaps like splitting logs echoed in staccato bursts, and the giant slumped boneless to the ground, thick blood leaking between his bonds. Meanwhile, some sections of the walls slid aside and withering flurries of arrows launched at the other giants, inciting thunderous roars of pain as point after point plunger deep into their skin and burrowed toward their vital spots. One by one they fell.  
  
Within minutes, the only living beings outside the castle were Harry and Wraith, sitting sprawled on the grass watching the spectacle. Wraith took a deep breath, grimaced and asked, "What's burning?" Harry gestured behind them, and Wraith frowned. "Oh, we can't have that." He pointed his staff in the direction of the burning forest, and the flames sputtered and died out.  
  
Harry sighed and shook his head. "That worked better than I though. Remind me to thank Professor Sprout for the Devil's Snare." Wraith arched one eyebrow. "Seems to me that was a lot of excitement over nothing." The sun chose that moment to pop up over the horizon and bathe them in pale gold beams of light.  
  
Harry winced and shielded his eye, cursing. "Shit! That hurts! What is that?" Wraith squinted as he chuckled over the sound of Devil's Snare retreating back to it dark cavern in the dungeons. "It's called the sun Harry. You know, big ball of flaming gas, the thing that separates night and day? You've seen it before." "Well Mr. Sarcasm, it offends me. Turn it off."  
  
"I don't think that would be the best plan of action for all concerned, Mr. I'm-So-Not-A-Morning-Person." Harry's rejoinder was cut off by a squawk from their communicators, and Lupin's voice called out, "Does anybody else think that was too easy?" Harry snorted and shot back, "Easy? You call that easy?" Then he paused. "Well, yeah, it was."  
  
Wraith had stood up and was gazing around suspiciously. "Where'd the Death Eaters go? Did anybody see?" Ron's voice answered him, "We were a little busy. Last I saw they were heading into the forest. They're off my maps." Silence stretched for a minute, then he asked hesitantly, "Should I turn off the defenses?"  
  
Wraith frowned. "No. Keep them up. Something's wrong." Harry nodded. "We'll search the edges of the forest, see if we can determine which way they went. But the students could probably use breakfast by now."  
  
*************************************************  
  
Remus let a little smile tug his lips as he answered, "So could we all. Report in anything you find." A couple of clicks of acknowledgement, then he turned to the gather students who were watching him intently. He swallowed once, then announced, "We won this one," and then had to break off momentarily for the cheers, "but the Death Eaters are still out there. We don't know where they've gone, so stay alert. The house elves should have breakfast ready soon, so feel free to head into the Great Hall."  
  
A ripple of released air signaled unconsciously held breaths freed into relieved sighs, then the students started chattering amidst themselves, a bit giddy with nervous adrenaline. Remus delegated the Head Boy and Girl to go collect the younger students and villagers in the dungeons, then with a glance at McGonagall and Snape, headed up to the Phoenix Chamber, followed closely by Hermione.  
  
Ron glanced up when they arrived and gestured at the screens. "This makes no sense," he complained, "no bloody sense at all. I've replayed the battle several times now, and their tactics make not one bloody whit of sense." A house elf knocked on the adjoined door from the Headmistress's office and said, "I has brought some breakfast, good masters."  
  
"Thank you," McGonagall told him, "You may bring it in here." After the elf had settled the tray and disappeared again, to be replaced by the rest of the Order as they came up from the Great Hall, Ron started up as if he'd never been interrupted, although now he was gesturing with a bagel in his hand.  
  
"You see?" He tapped a screen and gave a running narration as the battle replayed. "The alarms were tripped early, and then they took their own sweet time actually getting up here. See, these trolls bumbled in far ahead the others, and the Death Eaters hung back to let them lead farther. If they had stuck together and struck swiftly, the castle would have been overrun before we were even awake."  
  
He pointed at the marble battlerama, crumbs sprinkling down like snow before he irritably Banished them away. "Instead, they came in waves. The dementors first, but after the volleys of Patroni from the watches they withdrew to the forest. They didn't do that at the HQ attack, and there's more people to feed off of here. Then the trolls and the giants, largely untrained and uncoordinated. They were just sent to do some damage."  
  
He took a vicious bite of his bagel as his wand pointed at the human figures towards the back. "Meanwhile, the Death Eaters back here are setting fire to the forest, just for fun it seems. Bloody pyros," he muttered through his mouthful, and ignored Hermione's swat to his arm. "And here's where they exit, using the smoke for cover." Sure enough, the cloaked figures strolled away without a care in the world and vanish into the forest.  
  
Ron exhaled unhappily and ran a hand through unruly red hair. "With the attack on the village, this was too many forces for a probe to test our defenses. But obviously they weren't serious enough for a real attack. And what the hell are the Death Eaters up to? Why didn't they use the demons on Hogwarts? If they really wanted in, all they had to do was let the demons in, rather than the giants. Like I said, it makes no sense."  
  
Hermione frowned, finger tapping the edge of the table. "What was their goal here? It seems like it was a distraction, but for what?" She looked around questioningly. "What's in the Forbidden Forest? Is there anything that would interest the Death Eaters enough to plan this?"  
  
McGonagall was tapping her chin, lips pursed in a thin line. "The only thing of interest for miles now is Hogwarts. Anything in the forest would have been driven off by battle or else approached secretly. You're right, Mr. Weasley, this makes no sense." Remus sighed. "That's just what we need. Death Eaters prowling about unseen."  
  
******************************************************  
  
Monica Fiala didn't know that when she received her Head Girl badge that she would be reduced to shepherding the younger students around Hogwarts.  
  
She led the way up from the labyrinthine dungeons, a vast crowd of chattering kids third year and under following, and scowled a bit to herself. It was too early in the morning for her to be dealing with them and Professor Trelawney, who was holding forth to a bunch of wide-eyed first years about how she received her gift of Sight from her great- grandmother, a famous Seer.  
  
Rolling her eyes at the oft-repeated rubbish, Monica wished she could go back to her dormitory in Ravenclaw and sleep. But alas, she was awake with a job to do, and she was going to prove herself worthy of this badge pinned to her robes. But that didn't mean she had to like it.  
  
Finally they reached the Great Hall, and Monica swiftly counted the students as they filed past her; wouldn't be good for her to leave someone behind. Then she frowned. Several first years were missing, along with a couple Hufflepuff second years and a handful of missed third years.  
  
Gazing longingly at the tables piled high with fresh fruit and bangers and mash, she turned back to search for the absentees. She passed Michael Franklin, the Hufflepuff Head Boy, talking seriously with a group of adults she didn't recognize, and supposed they must have been the Hogsmeade evacuees. She stopped briefly to ask if they had seen the missing students, but Michael just shrugged. They headed back towards the Great Hall, drawn by a promise of food, leaving Monica alone again.  
  
The staircases shifted around her as she descended towards the dungeons, and then a voice behind her made her turn. On the staircase above stood Ewan Clarkson, one of the second years she was looking for, and she breathed out a short sigh before calling up to him, "There you are. You were supposed to stay with the group. Now where are the others?"  
  
He simply looked at her, unresponsive, and it was only then she noticed his wand drawn and pointed at her chest. "Ewan," she said warningly, but a sliver of dread was creeping along her spine. Maybe it had to do with the blank look in his eyes, like the light was on but nobody was home. It wasn't right. With curious detachment, he enunciated, "Petrificus totalis."  
  
Monica dodged just in time, rolling down to the bottom of the stairs and hitting her elbow painfully before she got to her feet and pulled her own wand, instinctively shouting back, "Stupefy!" Ewan caught the blast full in the chest and fell, but a jet of red light came from the corridor behind her and grazed her shoulder with fiery hot pain.  
  
Whirling, she caught a glimpse of a small girl, no more than a first year with her wand pointed like a sword, then dove out of the way as another spell was fired off. "What the hell are you doing?" Monica yelled incredulously, but the girl didn't answer, simply staring at her through vacant eyes. A soft voice behind her, however, did. "Why my dear, she is only doing what I tell her too."  
  
Monica spun around yet again to find three black-cloaked figures standing casually with wands drawn. The one in the lead smirked through the bone- white death mask. "After all, Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty, but not brains, which makes them ideally susceptible to Imperius."  
  
His bragging proved to be his mistake, for while the Death Eater was talking, Monica's instincts kicked in. Her wand flashed as she Stunned two of them, blocked a spell each from the girl and the last Death Eater, then barely ducked away from the green flash of the Killing Curse. It hit the first year behind her, who fell without a sound.  
  
Enraged, Monica cast a strong Banishing charm, throwing the Death Eater over the railings to tumble down through several stories of staircases, landing on the bottom floor with a sickening crunch. She heaved in a couple deep breaths, trying to blink away tears as her body shook from delayed adrenaline, and caught sight of a couple more Death Eaters creeping across the upper staircases.  
  
Instantly she did the only thing she could; turning her wand on herself, she muttered, "Sonorus," then screamed at the top of her lungs, letting her voice echo through every stone of Hogwarts.  
  
"DEATH EATERS ARE INSIDE!!! DEATH EATERS IN HOGWARTS!! THEY'RE INSIDE!!"  
  
****************************************  
  
Dumbledore looked up from his conversation with Tori and smiled. "Ah, Eva. So good to see you." Eva smiled a bit wanly as she approached through the grass, and Dumbledore observed that she obviously wasn't her normal self. "Hello Albus," she greeted him with a nod, then acknowledged Tori with a small smile.  
  
Her eyes flicked around like an animal searching for danger, taking in her surroundings carefully. "Have either of you seen Death today?" Tori shook her head. "No. Lately we hear she's been shutting herself up in her library. I think Fate is here, though, and Chaos came over looking for the Weasley twins earlier."  
  
Eva suppressed a grimace. "Thanks." She stood there, seemingly lost in thought until Dumbledore said gently, "Eva, are you quite all right?" She started, then glanced at the old man with something strange glinting in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and that singular apology conveyed for more than just momentary inattentiveness.  
  
Tori exchanged a glance with Dumbledore, then asked quietly, "For what?" Eva gestured helplessly. "For . . . for this. For what's happening. For . . ." Her rambling explanation was abruptly cut off by a strident voice. "Eva, what are you doing here?"  
  
Fate stalked up with cold fire blazing in her eyes, and immediately Eva seemed to gather strength, transforming into her usual self. "What's it to you, Fate?" she demanded. Fate glared daggers at her, biting out, "You're not welcome here."  
  
Eva arched an eyebrow. "Oh really? Who made you the bouncer in this cantina?" She smirked. "Last I heard this was Death's realm, not yours. She can kick me out if she wants, but I'm still allowed back in. You should know; you set the terms of my isolation." Fate gritted her teeth as her hair rippled with angry red and black. "Haven't you caused enough damage already?"  
  
"Haven't you?" Eva retorted with a sneer. "Don't you have your own job to do, instead of policing Death's?" she asked pointedly, and Fate clenched her fists. She seemed ready to throw her dice in Eva's face and leap on her, spitting and snarling. Dumbledore and Tori were hiding smiles, clearly enjoying what could turn into a catfight at any moment.  
  
The argument was interrupted by another stern voice, and they all turned to see Death striding up to them, silver hair and black cloak streaming behind her. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded icily, glaring between the two. "Fate, your presence is required elsewhere. Leave now." Fate narrowed her eyes, nodded once sharply and stalked away before disappearing silently like a breath of air.  
  
Death turned to Eva, and the two locked eyes, staring at each other for several long minutes in silent communication. Finally Death sighed imperceptibly. "Why do you pick fights with her?" Eva shrugged. "Once you understood. It's fun. Besides, she started it." Death shook her head. "It's not wise. What did you come here for?"  
  
Eva simply looked at her evaluating, then smiled with no trace of humor. "I have a message. It's started. Get ready for a rush." Death maintained a perfectly calm exterior. "Very well." She reached out a slim hand and touched Eva's cheek, almost caressing it with a tender look in her silver eyes.  
  
"So long has been our path, and I fear it shall only grow more treacherous." Eva cupped the hand at her cheek, remaining silent. "To what shall our end be?" Death whispered. "How will it come about? To destruction, or to completion?" Eva closed her eyes, then whispered, "I must leave." With a shivering sigh of eternity, she vanished.  
  
Death stood there, a faraway look in her eyes as the two mortal onlookers were completely ignored, then turned back to her city, disappearing in the maze of buildings. Dumbledore looked after her, then turned back to Tori to see the same look of incomprehension on her face.  
  
The still silence enveloping them was broken by the echoing cry of a woman. "Padfoot! Prongs! You incomparable prats! Get back here and put this right!!" Lily's voice was furious, but held a deep undercurrent of affectionate amusement. Dumbledore chuckled softly. Some things never changed; for some things, there is no death, only a change of worlds. 


	32. Hide and Seek

A/N: Roommates suck!!! I would have had this chapter up over a week ago, except for a little problem with the gelatinous mass of proteins and alcohol and sheer sluttiness that is my roommate. Not to mention Tweedledee and Tweedledumb, who decide to take her side and make my life a living hell. Careful girls, I know where you sleep at night (and thanks to you, I no longer do). Bwahhahahahaha!!!! Er . . . .um, sorry, got carried away.  
  
Sorry again about the confusion on the last chapter. *grumbles under her breath as she contemplates how best to destroy the computer* I don't do teasers, and what was there didn't make any sense at all out of context. Thanks to all the reviewers who let me know about the problem. Again, I apologize.  
  
Arizosa: Good intuition. I like that quote at the bottom of your review so much, I'm stealing it. ;P So look for it at the bottom of this chapter.  
  
X a r a l i n d: Not that dark, you say? Say that again at the end of this chapter, and later. Just you wait. Of course, I'm not nearly as dark as Ruskbyte. Oh well.  
  
David305: Thanks for catching that little typo. It was actually the computer's fault (damn spell check) but I fixed it. And thanks for following my story for so long. I'm glad that you've enjoyed it. Actually, this story has never lain fallow and it's not dead (unlike some of the characters!!), so it doesn't need to be revived. It's just that I write it first by hand and then type it up, so all the growth is behind the screen. I have 3 chapters handwritten that I need to find the time to type and post. Luckily Christmas break is right around the corner and I should have some time to post a few more chapters. Almost done!! And PC??? *shrugs and adds the nickname to her list*  
  
NightScape: Thanks for your encouraging words, but it's when I'm nearly delirious from exhaustion that I do my best work.  
  
BladeLiger786: No, I'm not Asian, but as any poor college student knows, rice and Ramen are very cheap and easy to make, thus composing the staple of college food when one does not have the money for caf food.  
  
Pheonixelemental: You're going to use my quote in your senior yearbook? I'm flattered! I've never been quoted in print before. As for my senior quote, I used one of my favorite Latin sayings: "Nemo me impune lacessit." Plus "Never take life seriously; no one ever gets out of it alive." *grins* But I painted this on my bumper, "Neutiquam Erro," along with "Well-behaved women rarely make history."  
  
Alternativelyspliced: I love you!!! It's reviews like those that make me go and procrastinate on my own homework at finals time to go write out more chapters and end up creating my own universe. So thanks for giving me reason for writing this story while I should be writing 3 different papers. *winks and brews another pot of coffee*  
  
Disclaimer: If you haven't seen it elsewhere, then it's mine and hands off. I reference Pac-Man in here - don't own that either, and if I got the names wrong, I'm sorry, I haven't played in a long while. I don't own HP, never will, and be thankful for that. I would royally screw up millions of children for life. Order of the Phoenix was not a children's book, and neither is this as you will see. Not making any money off this either, though God knows I need some.  
  
Chapter 32  
  
Ron was replaying the battle again, carefully watching to try and make sense of the useless chaos, when a sharp cry rang out through the entire school. "Death Eaters are inside! Death Eaters in Hogwarts! They're inside!" He looked up wildly, saw the dawning horror on everyone's eyes, then with a snapped word changed the screens over to show the interior of Hogwarts.  
  
Most of the white dots representing students were milling inside the Great Hall, but about a dozen were scattered on other levels, accompanied by blazing red dots. Ron cursed loudly. "How'd they get in?" he demanded, and Hermione reached out to tap a certain section of the map.  
  
That area quickly enlarged to show a bathroom, with more red dots appearing from nowhere and diffusing quickly out into the corridors. "Through the Chamber of Secrets," she said quietly, icily calm. "Voldemort must have found another entrance from outside the school. The attack was to draw our attention outward, while they infiltrated from behind."  
  
Remus stared at the screens for a long moment, then snapped on his communicator. "Harry, Wraith, get back here. The Death Eaters are inside Hogwarts," he barked. No answer came, but he didn't wait for one before turning to the Order. "Get down to the Great Hall. If the Death Eaters get to the students there, it'll be a death trap. They could collapse the ceiling easily enough on all of them."  
  
He flicked his eyes to the 3-D model. "Get the students out of there and scatter in groups. Don't let them catch you all together. Get the younger ones out of Hogwarts, let anybody who wants to stay and fight." They all nodded in perfect understanding and ran. "Ron, stay here and be our eyes. We'll probably be hunting them, so direct us by communicator."  
  
Ron nodded quietly, grasping Hermione's hand tightly with his own even as he turned back to the screens, just in time to see the black dot labeled "Voldemort" appear. "Good hunting," he murmured as Remus disappeared out the door.  
  
*****************************************  
  
After the shouted warning, it was chaos in the Great Hall. Some students were crying, panicking at the thought of death closing in on them inside their precious school most of the older students tamped down their fear and readied themselves for the fight of their lives.  
  
The professors there tried to keep order, but their voices were lost in the multitude. Trelawney looked ridiculous waving her arms and shouting unheard, eyes unnaturally large behind her glasses.  
  
The Order members burst in and quickly sealed the doors behind them. McGonagall hurriedly let off a series of bangs from her wand, and everyone's attention focused on her. "Everyone calm down," she barked, "We have to leave the Hall. Split up into groups, one adult per group, and scatter. If you can, make for the exits and leave."  
  
Bill spoke up next. "I for one plan to evict these Death Eaters. They don't belong here. Fight back when you can, but no heroics. We have enough dead martyrs for one war." That said, people quickly started to form groups, those who wished to stay non-combatants forming up towards the back as hunting parties arrayed by the huge front doors.  
  
Each group had one adult with a communicator , and on Ron's signal the first groups left, one of younger students creeping out the back entrance heading for an exit two floors down, while another of determined sixth and seventh years headed out into the main corridor with Bill Weasley, wands at the ready.  
  
Thus began the most deadly game of hide and seek Hogwarts had ever seen.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Harry and Wraith Apparated up to the Phoenix Chamber where Ron was currently guiding the students away from the Death Eater hunting parties. "How the hell did they get inside?" Wraith demanded. "Chamber of Secrets. It must have another entrance out in the forest," Hermione answered shortly, and Harry grimaced. "I completely forgot about that."  
  
Ron made a weird noise in his throat and Wraith turned to him. "What is it?" "Voldemort," Ron bit out in a strange tone, a mix of terror and anxiety. "He's heading up in this direction." Harry immediately joined him at the table, and with a tap of his wand the marble shifted to show an expanded interior view.  
  
Sure enough, a miniature marble Voldemort was confidently stalking down the corridor alone, heading for the stairs. Ron squinted and leaned closer. "What's he holding?" Wraith suddenly winced and yelped, startling them all. His hands tugged at the back of his shirt, yanking at it as if it burned him. Harry leapt to help him. "Wraith, what . . . ?"  
  
The War Mage tore something from his back and dropped it like a poisonous snake, but didn't back away from it. Harry stared down at the ivory handle peeking from the velvet wrappings. "Of course, the talisman," he breathed. Glancing at the marble figure, now he recognized the first talisman from Azkaban. "They must be drawn to each other. That's what he's here for."  
  
Ron looked over at him askance. "Wasn't that your plan from the beginning? To draw him here for the talisman?" Harry nodded dismally. "Yeah, but I never expected him to get inside the castle. This makes most of the preparations useless, and puts us on the defensive."  
  
Wraith had his gaze still fixed on the talisman at his feet. "It burns," he said with a confused, betrayed tone, "it burns me, calling for him." He met Harry's gaze, eyes bright and fierce as a dragon. "He can't have it. It's mine, my own, and he won't take it away," he nearly growled. Stooping, he picked up the wrapped knife seemingly without pain and replaced it in the sheath at his back.  
  
Hermione watched him carefully. "Why don't you just destroy it? Isn't that what you were supposed to do in the first place?" Wraith whirled on her, snarling. "No! I won't destroy it! I can't!" She shrank back a bit at the feral gleam in his eye, and Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion, watching his counterpart like a bomb about to explode.  
  
Wraith turned to Harry, a dark look on his face and a grim tone to his voice. "We need to split up. If he's trying to get the talisman, he'll follow me, so I'll lead him away. Harry, you can help the others to safety. Leave old Tom to me." He grinned, showing a mouthful of teeth, and Hermione was suddenly reminded of a lion baring his fangs.  
  
With a pop he disappeared and Ron watched as Voldemort slowed, then stopped, staring intently at the orb in his hand. Then he turned and headed away from the upper levels, following the talisman's directions towards Wraith now lurking in the dungeons. Harry sighed. "I've got a bad feeling about this."  
  
Ron was tracing some corridors with his wand, eyes intently studying. "Ignore him for now. Harry, get to this corridor," he pointed at the Charms corridor, where two groups of red were starting to converge in a pincer on a group of white. With a nod and a pop, Harry was gone too.  
  
A crackle came over the communicator, and the familiar voice of Professor Flitwick sounded from Ron's wrist. "We've made it out. Now to where?" Ron tapped a screen to show outside of Hogwarts. "It looks clear, so make a run towards Hogsmeade. Stay away from the village and run for the mountains. There's a cave about three-quarters of the way up the side of the eastern one that's defensible."  
  
"Thanks. Good luck." Ron watched quietly as the students ran from the school, once the safest place in England and now a hunting ground.  
  
Then the walls rippled golden, and stones slid away to reveal the hidden archery emplacements. Ron had forgotten the outside defense were still active, and sheer surprise slowed his reaction time.  
  
He shouted, "Deactivate Hogwarts defenses!" but the first volley had already been loosed, and he watched helplessly as they sped towards their targets.  
  
Flitwick apparently heard them whizzing through the air, though, for the students broke and dove for cover behind giant corpses which safely caught the arrows. The redhead breathed a sigh of relief and activated his communicator. "Sorry about that."  
  
The diminutive Charms professor actually sounded amused. "No harm done, but I think these robes are a loss. It's rather messy out here. Any more surprises you care to tell us about?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron made sure he deactivated what he could of the outside traps. "Avoid the front gates and cut through the edge of the forest, unless you like tiptoeing through land mines." Flitwick chuckled dryly, and the students regrouped to sprint for the forest.  
  
Hermione sighed in relief as they reached the safety of the trees, then asked, "How are we doing?" Her boyfriend answered distractedly, "They've managed to avoid the Death Eaters so far. Harry took out a group of them here and got the students to the stairwell." He gestured vaguely at a group of white descending the moving staircases, then pointed towards the dungeons. "Wraith and Voldemort are still playing cat and mouse. Second group's ready to go out over the lake by boat."  
  
Hermione nodded, surveying the maps for herself before looking over at Ron seriously. "Do you really need me here?" He looked at her, and she could tell in his eyes that he wanted to say yes, just to keep her safe with him. She met his eyes squarely. "I'm not doing anything here, and I hate being useless. I should be down there, helping our friends."  
  
Ron opened and shut his mouth several times, as if uncertain what to say to that. She stepped over and kissed him quickly. "I'm going. Be my eyes." He hugged her tight to him, burying his face in her bushy brown hair. "Be careful," he murmured through the thick cloud of hair. "I can't stand to lose you too."  
  
She responded with a searing kiss which he reciprocated briefly before pulling away. Hermione smiled reassuringly at him and ran out the door. Ron looked after her long after she had gone.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Monica ran across the group quite by accident and was never in her life more happy to see a group of Gryffindors. She explained quickly to McGonagall about the students under Imperius and the Death Eaters, then join the hunting party. Fear and tension ran high, but they all kept a sharp eye out for the Death Eaters, almost eager for battle.  
  
Ron's voice sounded a bit muted from the communicator on McGonagall's wrist. "Four up ahead, around the corner on your right. One student with them." The Transfiguration professor tapped twice in acknowledgement and headed with surprising stealth up the corridor, Monica just behind and left covering her back. The whole group halted at the corner, listening carefully to the hushed voices of their quarry.  
  
With a mouthed incantation, the professor transfigured a section of the wall ahead into a mirror briefly and studied the Death Eaters without exposing her own position around the corridor. She glanced back at her students, gestured one of them forward and made a motion for him to stay low. Colin Creevey nodded, dropped to the floor and belly-crawled to the corner, where he pointed his wand around and aimed.  
  
McGonagall directed Monica and Seamus to aim using the mirror. On her count, all muttered, "Stupefy," and watched the red lights reflect off the mirror to hit their desired targets. Colin hit his target square in the back and straightened up with a grim smile. The second year was shaking his head in confusion, obviously disoriented from the abrupt cessation of the Imperius curse.  
  
The remaining students bound the stunned Death Eaters tightly, snapped their wands and shoved them in a hidden passageway behind a tapestry. McGonagall comforted the young student briefly, then handed him over to Monica's charge. Monica suppressed a sigh.  
  
Babysitting again.  
  
***************************************************  
  
This was no time for passivity.  
  
Remus was a good hunter when he let the wolf in him help dictate his sense and reflexes. Unburdened by a pack of students, he crept swiftly and silently through the corridors, searching for intruders.  
  
The school was eerily quiet, neither side wanted to give away their positions, ever-shifting between predator and prey. Even the portraits were silent, their inhabitants sensing the danger and not wishing to draw unnecessary attention to themselves.  
  
Remus suppressed a shiver as his ears strained to hear anything. The castle was usually so lively, especially in the mornings as the students clambered down to breakfast and complained about unfinished homework, waiting for the morning post.  
  
Now the stones seemed to absorb all sound, muffling even the slightest noise so that he felt like he was creeping through a vacuum. Frankly, the unnatural silence was worse than hellfire screams.  
  
Abruptly Remus heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps, only one set, and quickly had his wand trained steadily as they came into view. He sniffed the familiar scent, nodded in acknowledgement to Hermione as he lowered his wand slightly, and gestured for her to follow. She slipped silently to his side and cast a Disillusionment Spell on both of them, and Remus internally praised her brilliance.  
  
When they reached the main stairs they faltered, unsure of where to go. Hermione lifted her communicator to her mouth and said quietly, "Ron, where do we go?" After a moment came the equally soft reply, "Down two levels, left hand corridor and approach the History of Magic classroom from the back way. Catch that group in a crossfire with Snape's group."  
  
Without a word the two glided as softly as ghosts down the stairs, with only a slight ripple of the wall visible evidence of their movement.  
  
****************************************************  
  
Ron had been watching Hermione the whole trip through the school and directed her towards the nearest group, heart beating uncomfortably loud in his chest. This was his family out there, their survival in his hands. Charlie was leading students through the forest towards the mountains; Bill lurked along the third floor corridor by the hump-backed witch statue; his mum was with Flitwick in the caves, and his dad prepared to leave on the last boat over the lake, accompanied by Madame Pomfrey.  
  
Ron bit his lip, trying to keep focused and emotionless for now, even though his heart was aching. His family, splintered apart and unable to be whole again in this world. Muttering a vehement curse on Voldemort's head, he examined the maps again to search for danger. Wraith was moving again, heading seemingly at random through the maze of the dungeons.  
  
Harry suddenly popped into existence beside the table, and Ron jumped with a startled yell, in turn startling Harry. They both chuckled self- deprecatingly, then Harry joined him examining the maps. He traced the route Hermione was following with Remus, heading straight for a skirmish by the History of Magic classroom. "I don't like this," the black-haired teen said.  
  
Ron snorted. "What's there to like? We're playing hide and seek through a castle that was supposedly the safest place in all of Britain, inexperienced students versus some of the most psychotic Dark wizards this world's seen in centuries. Meanwhile Wraith and Voldemort are dancing over a dagger in the dungeons."  
  
"Well, when you put it that way," Harry said dryly. "I just mean it's rather uncharacteristically stupid for Voldemort to rely so much on surprise." Ron shrugged. "Hey, he underestimated us. It happens to people with huge egos and megalomaniacal tendencies."  
  
Harry arched an eyebrow. "Wow, insightful use of big words. Hermione's rubbing off on you." Ron responded with an automatic, "Shut up, Harry," as he immediately went back to watching Hermione creep through the castle. They scanned the maps again, then Harry frowned and leaned closer, peering intently down into the dungeons. "Hey, what's Voldemort . . .?"  
  
Just then the marble rippled, the screens flashed, then they all went blank as the diorama collapsed. The table was now just a table. Harry tried tapping the table and the screens, but they remained stubbornly inanimate. They couldn't see anything in the castle from this room. The two teens locked eyes.  
  
"We're in trouble." Ron stated.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Wraith scowled darkly at the muted announcement that the screens had been lost. He had felt the ripple of Dark magic Voldemort had sent to disable the locators in the maps, and felt the talisman burn once again. He shifted his talisman so it was now strapped at his side, easier to reach for in a moment's notice. It was his, and he wasn't letting it go; he would die before letting the snake bastard have it.  
  
Carefully he snuck through the hidden passageway by the old Potions room deeper into the unused portions of the dungeons. He yearned to take on Voldemort himself; unleash his true power, calling forth the Elements and setting the full might of the last War Mage upon him in a tempestuous fury. By the time he was finished, there wouldn't be a piece big enough for a flea to shit on.  
  
But he also wanted to keep his talisman away, far away, from the greedy, pale spider-like fingers, and couldn't let it leave his sight. It was a constant tug-of-war on a bungee cord that drove this deadly game of hide- and-seek on, but it made Wraith more frustrated and edgy. He snarled to himself, warring desires in his heart.  
  
He was concentrating so much on the enemy behind him, he forgot all about watching in front of him until he quite literally ran into a hunting party, colliding heavily with two men in black robes. They fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, and a couple of masks flew off. Quickly Wraith rolled so he was on top of the pile-up and started to get to his feet. He looked down.  
  
Steve Foloth's face stared up at him from centimeters away, and Wraith remembered what these scum had done to Ginny. His anger flared, followed quickly by his magic, and within seconds the four Death Eaters lay unconscious against the wall 10 meters away.  
  
Drawing a deep breath in an attempt at calming down, he transfigured them into dust mites and put them in the middle of an archway where Voldemort was sure to step on at least one of them. Let the vermin be squashed - what was it to him? It was the least they deserved.  
  
He stalked off down the corridor again, feeling the malevolent presence behind him, searching him out. Wraith scowled; timing, it was all about timing, but he was running out of time. It was then the screams rang out above him. He started, and then the shrieks doubled in volume, echoing off the soiled stone walls with a piercing quality. He knew that sound; someone was learning the agonies of the Cruciatus firsthand.  
  
That made his lip curl in a feral snarl. How dare they? How dare they?!  
  
He sprinted for the stairs and emerged in the upper corridor in record time, quickly taking in the scene he had interrupted. One Death Eater had a girl pinned between him and the wall, intent on a little sport. Another was standing guard over bodies of Hogwarts students, and a third was laughing over the shrieks and moans of two students writhing at his feet under the Cruciatus.  
  
His fury, so close to the surface in Wraith, flamed brilliantly and actually became visible around him, lighting up the corridor in blood red light. That drew the attention of the laughing Death Eater, who looked up and . . . smiled? "Hello Wraith, we meet again," came the silky tones of Lucius Malfoy, and Wraith glared at him with undisguised hatred.  
  
Forget Voldemort; he wanted to kill this petty little inbred mutant son of a . . .  
  
A burst of pain, simultaneously from his scar and his talisman derailed his train of thought. Voldemort was closing in. As much as he'd like to, he didn't have time to play around with this scum. Gathering his anger tightly, Wraith let it go in one sharp burst of flaming light that slammed the Death Eaters senseless and half-melted to the ground. The girl against the wall slumped with relief, and the curse was released from the two on the floor.  
  
The three conscious students stared at him as he performed the Ennervate spell on their classmates, then told the group, "Get up and get out of here. Voldemort's coming." They didn't ask questions, just nodded firmly and as one they sprinted away and around a corner. Wraith turned the other way and jogged off, monitoring the Dark presence following him.  
  
He was strongly reminded of a game that Eva had once shown him for fun, an old arcade called Pac-Man. He felt like the stupid yellow circle being chased around the maze by the ghosts - did that make Voldemort Inky, Pinky, Blinky or Bob? He shook his head fiercely at the absurd thought. Now this was just getting annoying, not to mention ridiculous.  
  
It was time to change the rules of the game.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Now that his presence in the Phoenix chamber was useless, Ron itched to go join the fight, hopefully by Hermione's side. With a final glance at the dead screens, he bolted for the door. Harry followed his friend through the office and out into the corridor, but only made it three steps beyond the gargoyle before a trio of Death Eaters appeared at the other end and began firing off spells.  
  
Ron dove forward into a roll, came up on one knee and bellowed, "Stupefy!!" twice. Two of their enemies dropped, followed by the third as Harry got him. Ron clambered to his feet and set off at a run for the stairs, Harry on his heels. No words were necessary between them; all they were focused on was getting to Hermione.  
  
The spooky silence that had reigned was gone, shattered by screams, spells and pounding feet ringing through the stone halls. Ignoring it, Ron sprinted recklessly down the marble steps. Suddenly in the middle of a landing Harry yanked him back and into a dark corner. Ron whirled on him, a furious question ready on his lips.  
  
But then several Death Eaters ran past their hiding place, and the two friends quickly dropped them with hexes from behind. Ron was ready to run again, but Harry pointed at his communicator. Ron quirked his lips between a smile and a wince as he activated it, speaking softly, "Hermione, where are you?"  
  
Her voice came back loud and clear over the background noise. "I'm with a group of students in the third floor corridor outside Fluffy's room. We're pinned down by two groups of Death Eaters. Any help would be great." Ron squeezed his fist. "We're on our way."  
  
Harry had already turned to head for the appropriate stairs, but then a jet of red light came shooting out from a side corridor and hit him solidly in the side of the head. Harry staggered dizzily, one hand on his head, the other flailing for balance. It missed the banister, so he slumped bodily against it as Ron leapt for him while firing off a spell in the direction the attack had come from.  
  
But as the universe has a rather twisted sense of humor, this random staircase chose that moment to change and shift to another floor. This meant that the banister disappeared during the shift, and Harry gave in to the laws of gravity. Ron could only watch as Harry tumbled helplessly over the edge and plummeted towards the hard stone below.  
  
But the universal randomness constant jumped in again, dictating that another staircase below moved exactly then, and as Harry fell past his arm whipped out and he grabbed onto the banister. With a wet-sounding pop and a jerk, his fall was broken and he dangled by one hand from a moving staircase.  
  
Ron breathed a sigh of relief and ran down to his friend as Harry swung his body up and hauled himself onto the solid stone. "You all right mate?" "Yeah," Harry panted, then winced. "Maybe. Wrenched my shoulder a bit there." Ron chuckled. "You know, there are easier ways to get downstairs faster." Harry pulled a face at him as he cast a healing charm on his shoulder, then stood.  
  
"C'mon, Hermione's waiting." Together they ran off to collect the third member of the Trio.  
  
******************************************************  
  
Hermione thanked Lady Luck for being on her side so far as her wand blasted a Death Eater to the ground. Neville shouted a warning and she ducked a spell, tracked it to its originator and dropped him with a rapid hex. She dimly noted Neville stunning another attacker, absently thought to thank Harry for teaching him so well, then kicked a wand out of its bearer's hand and turned the dark robes to rock, cementing that Death Eater in place.  
  
Hermione finished off the last Death Eater standing and quickly scanned around her, heart wrenching at the bodies of the students laying sprawled on the floor among the fallen Death Eaters. Her small group was currently clear, but shouts and lights from around the corner indicated other students in trouble. "Come on!" she shouted, and ran down the corridor followed by a dozen of her peers.  
  
They charged into battle, flinging curses and hexes at anyone in a mask. Hermione caught a flash of orange-red and sprinted for her boyfriend, who was fighting two opponents at once. She shot a Stunner at one, and as he crumpled Ron dispatched the other. He shot her a wry grin. "Hi."  
  
She placed a quick kiss on his lips. "Hi. About time. What took you so long?" Ron shrugged. "Harry had a problem taking the stairs," he commented as he took out a Death Eaters closing in on Cho Chang from behind. Together they jumped back into the fray. The battle was over quickly and everyone paused to catch much-needed breaths.  
  
Ron straightened up and surveyed his fellow students. "Al right, there's still more Death Eaters in Hogwarts. Let's show them they're not welcome." A ragged cheer went up, and a couple of salutes were casually tossed his way as they started off, flush with victory and adrenaline. Harry nodded with a smile and winked at him, then loped off down for the hunt.  
  
Ron made to follow, but stopped dead in his tracks as a cold mocking voice reached his ears. "Oh, the idiot Weasel is giving orders now. No wonder you're doomed to failure." He slowly turned to face Draco Malfoy, rage pounding raw and savage through his body. "Malfoy," he spat, "you bloody coward." Malfoy just laughed. "Only a Gryffindor would think a strategic retreat to be cowardice."  
  
Ron approached him menacingly, wand drawn and trained between the icy gray eyes. "You will pay for what you did," he bit out. Malfoy smirked, "Oh, you mean dear little Ginny. Yes, your precious little sister certainly was . . ."  
  
Whatever he thought she was, Ron never found out as his rage boiled over and he shouted incomprehensibly. A jet of light shot from his wand to hit Malfoy square in the chest and send him tumbling back into the wall with smoking robes. Ron clenched his wand, ready with another curse meant to injure, to cause pain, anything to punish this monster before him. Ginny deserved that much.  
  
But another look at that twisted pale face, and suddenly magic was too good to waste on this scum. Ron sheathed his wand, grabbed Malfoy's robes by the collar and punched him as hard as he could, relishing the crack of a cheekbone under his knuckles. The other boy staggered, and Ron hit him again and again, intent on doing the most damage and disfigurement.  
  
Malfoy tried to hit back, but Ron blocked the ineffective swipes and landed a hard right to the stomach. Malfoy dropped from his grasp, doubled up and retching, so Ron kicked him fiercely, remembering every vile thing Malfoy had ever did, every insulting word, every spiteful glance.  
  
Finally Malfoy lay limp on the floor, and as a parting gift Ron spit on him, the liquid streaking through the white-blond hair. Panting, he wiped the blood off his knuckles and looked up to find Hermione watching him silently with a carefully neutral face.  
  
How long had she been watching? He met her gaze steadily, unashamed of his actions but heart twisting at what she might think. After a moment she nodded and held out her hand for him. He gave her a small thankful smile, stepped over Malfoy's body and reached out to take her hand, finding all the comfort in the world in that simple gesture.  
  
Then Malfoy stirred. His wand pointed at Ron's back, he muttered a guttural- sounding curse, and a purplish bruised light shot out to impact the redhead between the shoulders. Hermione had just clutched Ron's hand when he gripped it convulsively, gave a short cry and collapsed.  
  
Reacting instinctively, she caught him as he fell, staggering under his weight until she sat on the cold stones cradling his upper body in her lap. "Ron! Ron, what's wrong?!" she asked in a high-pitched panicked voice, hand running through his thick hair trying to comfort him. Ron's face contorted in a spasm of pain and he convulsed in her arms for a few terrifying seconds.  
  
She watched horrified as dark purple and red bruises blossomed under his skin, growing and flowing together in great discolored patches. He coughed, and blood flecked from his mouth to spatter her jumper. "Ron!" she cried out, and his eyes opened, the brilliant warm blue now back-dropped by crimson sclera and barely able to focus on her face above.  
  
"Her . . . Hermione?" he coughed as more blood trickled from his mouth, now joined by streams from his nose. She nodded, crying as she tried to wipe the blood away and stained her hands red. He tried to smile at her. "I'm . . . sorry," he breathed out, and blinked away bloody tears. "Love you . . ." his voice trailed off, and she felt under her hand as his chest rattled once, then stilled.  
  
Hermione bit her lip, breathing hard and fast through the tears streaming down her face, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, ignoring the blood. "Love you," she whispered back brokenly, knowing he couldn't hear her. A scuffle made her look up, and she saw Draco Malfoy break into a limping, staggering run down the corridor.  
  
A white-hot rage unlike anything she had ever known burst into full conflagration in her chest. Gently she lay Ron back onto the floor, closing his eyes for him, then shot to her feet and sprinted after the murderous demon, shrieking fit for a horde of banshees out of hell.  
  
Malfoy glanced back, and she felt a dark thrill to see terror reflected in his eyes. He tried to run, but he only made a few more hobbling steps before Hermione was on him, tearing and clawing and shrieking out curses, slamming him into the wall. He struggled to get away, but this hellcat was having none of it, and he gasped under the blows and gashes she rained on him, bright spots of blood streaking his robes and pale skin.  
  
Malfoy caught one of her hands and used her momentum to push himself away, sideways down the corridor. She lashed out with a side kick Eva had taught her, and with her rage tapped unconsciously into her magic to give extra force behind the blow. Ribs cracked and Malfoy was sent flying back into a suit of armor in a small cubicle to the side.  
  
The armor wavered, then collapsed, which included the sharpened axe it held. Malfoy had time for one terrified scream before it thudded down, silencing him forever with a sickening crunch.  
  
Hermione stood frozen in the corridor, unable to believe her eyes.  
  
Malfoy was dead.  
  
It was an accident.  
  
It was her fault.  
  
She started shaking, then looked down at the blood coating her hands. He had killed Ron. She wasn't sorry about Malfoy at all.  
  
Slowly, numbly she staggered back down the corridor and slumped down next to Ron. Tenderly she wetted the end of her robe and wiped the blood from his face, smoothing his features into peace. Now he merely looked like he was sleeping, like the time he had fallen asleep on her in the Common Room, after that day . . .  
  
Just like that night, Hermione gathered him into her arms close to her, rocking him gently as she petted his thick red hair, humming softly and unaware of fresh tears splashing down her face amid the blood spatters.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Harry led a small group of frightened students out the little-used passage by the Hufflepuff Common Room. He surveyed the incongruously sunny day painting the lawns with brilliant colors, then clapped a nearby boy on the shoulder. "What's your name?"  
  
The boy swallowed hard. "T-travis." "Okay Travis, see that hut out there?" Harry pointed to Hagrid's hut at the edge of the forest, and at the boy's nod said, "You need to lead them there. Run and don't look back until you're all inside. Keep a look-out for anyone coming. A professor will come and take you to a safe place, okay?"  
  
Travis swallowed hard and nodded bravely. Then a girl asked from behind them, "What about Professor Sprout? Why can't she lead us?" Harry winced, remembering the green flash of light as the Herbology professor tried to protect her charges. "She can't come, but someone else will." He took one last look. "Go."  
  
They shoved past him, Travis in the lead, and like a flock of birds made directly for their roost. Harry watched until the door slammed shut behind the last trailing robe, then he ducked back inside to track down some more.  
  
Every sense was on alert, so when a muffled pop sounded behind him he whipped around with wand at ready. Wraith stood there panting, an unholy gleam in his eyes and some blood spattering his arms. Harry frowned at him. "What the hell are you doing?" The other flashed him a lopsided grin. "Voldemort's having a hell of a time tracking me down when I keep popping all over the place."  
  
Harry eyed him warily and gestured at the blood. "And that?" Wraith looked down and shrugged carelessly. "I can't stand to watch Death Eaters kill children. The shit get what they deserve." Harry tightened his jaw and nodded sharply. "Want to go hunting with me?" Wraith's dark face brightened. "Of course."  
  
Together they set off rapidly through the maze that was Hogwarts, searching. For some time they found only dead or unconscious bodies, both students and Death Eaters, but no hunting parties of either side. As they stalked through another corridor, Harry stopped dead in his tracks and stared. A suit of armor had been knocked over, the gleaming metal offset by a tangle of black robes, pale hair, and crimson blood.  
  
"Malfoy," he muttered through an incomprehensible tangle of emotions. Wraith ground his teeth and they walked past, averting their eyes from the mess. At the end of the corridor came a soft humming tune, a rather haunting melody that traced and twirled through the air slowly. Harry approached cautiously, wand at the ready until he caught sight of a head of bushy brown hair hanging like a veil over two faces and intertwined with coppery-red.  
  
His breath caught in his throat and he ran forward, croaking out, "Hermione?" She didn't appear to hear him, so involved in stroking Ron's hair and humming that song. He knelt by her side and touched her shoulder, "Hermione?" Slowly she turned to him, and he was shocked to see the emptiness in her eyes.  
  
"Harry," she said softly, like a little girl, and he looked down at Ron. With a trembling hand he felt at his neck, and the utter stillness and chill of his flesh told Harry everything he didn't want to be true. His heart broke painfully, cracked right in half along the space that Ron had occupied in his life, now just a cold emptiness. He turned back to Hermione, tears in his eyes to match hers.  
  
She spoke again in that little girl voice. "Ron did it, he did it for Ginny. But he couldn't kill him. Not Ron. But Malfoy killed Ron, and he said he was sorry and he loved me, but then he left me, and Malfoy tried to get away, but I wouldn't let him. I killed him. He killed Ron and I killed him," she babbled, hugging Ron and rocking his body.  
  
Harry lowered his head, choking back a great lump of boiling tears before they could flood out. Finally he rasped, "We need to leave, Hermione." She shook her head stubbornly. "Not without Ron!" He nodded. "Now without Ron. He's coming with us." Carefully Wraith extricated the body from Hermione's arms and picked him up, and Harry helped Hermione to her feet, letting her cling to him tightly for support.  
  
The trip was made in silence, and seemed at once interminable and absurdly short in their numb emotional haze. They were at the base of the mountain, smoke from Hogsmeade drifting past in acrid fumes, watching as Mrs. Weasley fell sobbing to the ground, cradling the body of her youngest son tightly. Hermione was caught up in a tight hug by Charlie and Bill, while Mr. Weasley knelt stiffly beside his distraught wife.  
  
Harry shook himself, glanced at Wraith, and without a word they left the scene to head back to Hogwarts. They weren't finished yet, not by a long shot, for they swore that every Death Eater within those walls would die.  
  
Harry had had enough.  
  
********************************************  
  
Remus had gathered what students and professor remained into the Great Hall and studied them . Beaten and bloodied, they all met his gaze with the same determination to fight back as long as possible. The cost of the shadow battle had been high on both sides, but Voldemort was still alive and lurking in the castle. It wasn't over yet.  
  
Remus knew that only Harry could face the Dark Lord and have a snowball's chance in hell of doing something significant. Briefly he wondered how soon he'd be seeing Sirius and James and Lily again, then shook his head to focus. He met Snape's gaze, noting the man trying to hide a bloodstain on the side of his robes, and almost smiled to realize that some things never changed. The man never acknowledged weakness or injury if he could help it.  
  
Before Remus could issue orders, the doors crashed open and instantly every wand was trained on the entrance, where Harry and Wraith stormed in looking furious. Remus lowered his wand. "What's the report?" Wraith scowled deeply. "Voldemort wants the talisman, but seems not to be making an effort beyond tracking me. And he refuses to leave the castle when I do."  
  
Snape frowned, dark brows lowering to make his face more menacing than usual. "He's waiting for something." Harry shook his head with frustration. "I don't know what, though. He's gathered his Death Eaters back in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, so unless he has another basilisk to sic on us, only Merlin knows what he's up to."  
  
Seamus looked over, nose clearly broken and serving to make his brogue thicker than ever. "So whadda thing? Run 'way wid our arse indact, o' s'dorm de bahdroom an' killem all?" Wraith was looking up at the huge windows, frowning in deep thought. "This is all about the talisman," he said softly, eyes gleaming. "Hogwarts is just a bonus. He's planning something."  
  
He glanced down at Remus. "I need to face him. Alone. Get everyone else out." Snape stepped forward with a massive scowl. "Wraith . . ." Wraith simply glared back at him. "This isn't ego or a hero complex. This is fact. There's nothing else you can do here. Now get out." Remus watched him steadily for a long moment, then sighed and nodded. "He's right. We have to leave."  
  
Grudgingly the two dozen or so defenders gathered together and with a backwards farewell at Wraith, left Hogwarts for the last time.  
  
Harry jogged after them, and at Remus' curious look explained, "I'll make sure you all reach the forest." Exhausted, they jogged down the lawns towards the relative safety of the trees. Harry kept gazing around, knowing something was off but unable to pinpoint it, and urged them on faster.  
  
Suddenly from behind them came the shattering crash of broken glass, punctuated by a chorus of inhuman snarls. "Oh shit," Harry breathed, glancing back, "demons." Sure enough, demons swarmed the outside of the Great Hall, breaking the windows to get in, and Harry paused, torn.  
  
That pause saved their lives, for from the forest a running army of supernatural creatures emerged, with only two goals: get the talisman and kill anything in the way.  
  
Wraith came sprinting out the front doors and slammed them shut, temporarily sealing the demons inside, and joined the last humans on the field before the circle closed. Wraith and Harry herded the last of the Hogwarts defenders in a tight group back to back as they circled the outside, weapons drawn. The demons circled them, snarling and howling and raising an unearthly noise that made skin crawl, but made no move to advance.  
  
Abruptly silence fell, so deafening that several wizards staggered. A screeching laugh rang out, and both Wraith and Harry winced as scars shot through with fiery pain. Voldemort appeared at the front doors of Hogwarts flanked by more demons, laughing gleefully. "So it comes down to this, one last hopeless standoff."  
  
He grinned, baring rotting pointed teeth in a death's head grimace. "Wraith, hand over the talisman and you can all escape alive. Resist and my demons will tear you to shreds looking for it." Wraith snarled back, "Never!!" Voldemort sighed in mock pity, then flicked his fingers.  
  
Immediately the demons charged from all sides, and the wizards opened fire. Harry and Wraith fought furiously, quicker and more brutally than they ever had before, sending gouts of steaming blood arching in the air to stain and burn black furrows in the grass. The wizards couldn't target the demons themselves, but cast rapid-fire spells on the ground, the air, the weapons sweeping towards them, barely managing to keep them at bay.  
  
Remus found himself back to back with Snape, nearly leaning against each other for support as they tapped deeper and deeper into their reserves for the energy to survive. Every breath was gasped in aching lungs, each move strained exhausted muscles, brains struggled to remember spells that might save all their lives. Weapons clanged and slashed, spilling human blood with the black slime. They were falling, failing.  
  
Wraith took a desperate gamble and knelt with both hands on his staff, concentrating all his energy into its core and relying on Harry to protect him for these crucial moments. Harry strained every resource he had and some he didn't know he did, trying everything to protect himself and Wraith, but knew he wasn't going to last long. "Come on, come on," he gritted as he simultaneously decapitated one demon with his parvalleh and eviscerated another behind with the sword.  
  
The ruby atop the staff began to glow, brighter and brighter until it outshone the sun, causing squeals of pain around them, temporarily halting the fight. Then a great beam of light shot out and cut a huge swath through the demon's blocking the way to the forest. It wasn't fire, but as the light touched them, each demons instantly disintegrated into free-floating molecules.  
  
Once the path was clear, the light disappeared and Wraith slumped to the ground unmoving. Harry yelled, "RUN!!" and instantly the wizards took off in a frantic dash for the trees. Several stumbled in exhaustion, lurching over the torn up ground but pushing themselves towards safety. Remus tripped over a fallen axe and stumbled, barely catching himself in time.  
  
The damage was done. The others made it into the forest and disappeared into the trees, and the demons closed ranks filling in the gap. And Voldemort was no longer laughing. Instead, with a horrible expression of fury, he pointed his wand at Remus and shot a beam of silver-white light at him.  
  
Remus convulsed and shuddered, moaning in agony, then his figure lengthened and sprouted fur, hands curled into paws and his mouth elongated into a muzzle full of razor-sharp teeth. Harry backed away cautiously, dread thrilling coldly through his blood. Voldemort had forced the lycanthropic transformation, and now Harry stood face to face with a crazed werewolf.  
  
Snarling, it lunged at him and desperately Harry blocked it with the hammer side of the parvellah. He didn't want to hurt Remus, but he couldn't leave Wraith. He dropped the sword and scrambled for his wand, but the wolf lunged again, slipping under his guard and snapping for his jugular. Instinctively Harry fell backwards to roll the wolf over him, but he forgot something.  
  
His sword lay behind him, blade wedged upwards from a deep furrow of torn earth, and as he rolled with the wolf's momentum, the blade pierced through his heart and emerged, bloodied, from his chest.  
  
Wraith was barely conscious, energy drained to almost nothing, but he felt that blade stab through Harry as surely as it was his own flesh. The searing pain made him cry out weakly. Raising his head fractionally, he looked over at Harry, whose face was contorted with shock and agony as blood poured out of his mouth. Wraith could only watch as the light in Harry's eyes dimmed, flickered, then faded, and the body fell completely limp.  
  
Immediately Wraith felt a hideous tearing in his soul as something monstrous with cruel silver eyes brutally ripped half of himself away, leaving him trembling, weak and broken, unable to move for the all- consuming pain. A curious dizzy sensation, like being in two places at the same time, had his head reeling as senses split and separated, spanning an insurmountable gulf.  
  
He barely heard the approaching footsteps until Voldemort stood right over him with such a look as to make him shiver and look away. "Yes . . ." he hissed, "the scar . .. I could sense both of you . . . I felt him die, yet you remain here." Long pale fingers raked over his forehead, and he cried out as his body morphed painfully back into his normal form of Harry Potter, scar prickling.  
  
"Remarkable," Voldemort breathed, "two of you, with equal power and knowledge. That explains so much." Those insidious hands crept down to Harry's side and loosened the sheath. "I'll take this now."  
  
Harry put his hand over the talisman and whispered, "No." Voldemort ignored him, pushing his hand away like a child and removing the wrapped knife. He stood, clutching both talismans to him and Harry could barely make him out through the swirl of darkness. He could feel even more of himself ripping away, seized by spider-like fingers and carried off as a prize.  
  
"Timing, Harry Potter, it's all about timing. Once the ritual is complete, then and only then will you die." He laughed again, like talons over a chalkboard. "Enjoy your last few hours alive." Voldemort walked away, leaving Harry alone and helpless on a field of bodies.  
  
Harry was staring up at the bright blue sky, which was wavering unsteadily in his vision, when Hogwarts exploded.  
  
*******************************************  
  
Eva laughed.  
  
It was not a nice laugh.  
  
It was helplessness and despair and hopelessness and heartbreak and pure unadulterated loneliness - a laugh that could only be given in place of weeping.  
  
It echoed over the empty plains of her realm, mixing with the wind through the grasses, the waves crashing at the beach, the thick silence of the mountains and the quiet peace of the forests, then died out in a rush.  
  
Eva sat in her unlit room, watching the portal that was her only connection to the outside worlds. This time it showed Death's realm, the Guardian separating and greeting all her newcomers from the battle of Hogwarts. There hadn't been a rush like this in quite a while, and Eva knew what it meant. It wasn't good.  
  
She watched as a solitary redhead ran towards a group on the outside of the city, and was quickly engulfed by a mob of ginger in a multi-armed hug. She focused in on them, watching this family reunion with a slight smile.  
  
Fred pulled out of the hug and grinned at his younger brother, who was actually taller than him. "Hi Ron. Long time no see." George smirked widely. "She get you too, eh?" Ron gave Ginny an extra squeeze as he answered, "Yeah, she did. Well actually Malfoy did. But he came in right behind me, then kept going."  
  
Ginny smiled up at him. "You know what that means?" Ron looked down at her quizzically, and the twins answered gleefully, "That means, burn baby burn!!!" Ginny laughed. "We won't be seeing him again." Ron cracked a smile. "The best part is, I think Hermione's the one that got him." There was an instant of shocked silence, then the three Weasleys burst into cheers and an improvised war dance as Percy looked on with a fond smile.  
  
Gradually they made their way back to their own group of family and friends, explaining some of the basics of the new existence to Ron, warning him to stay away from Fate and how to get on Chaos' good side. Laughter and loving echoed through the plain, offsetting the scene a world away over the same person.  
  
Eva let them be as she focused back on Death, who had released her new charges into their home and was now simply standing there, waiting. Eva shivered, feeling an uncanny sense of doom creeping towards her. What was she waiting for? She never waited for anything. Timing, it was all about timing; she and Destiny depended on it. Although lately . . .  
  
And then what she was waiting for materialized at her feet, and Eva's breath caught painfully in her chest as her heart ached. She could only watch helplessly as Death leaned down and caressed her newest acquisition tenderly on the cheek. She pulled him to his feet and held him in a loose hug, supporting him with her body as he seemed to lack the strength to stay fully upright alone.  
  
Through misty eyes, Eva realized that he really did lack the strength, and in this realm there could only be one reason. Swallowing hard against the hard lump in her throat and fighting an inexplicable burning anger in her chest, she snapped off the screen and let the room around her sink into darkness.  
  
So Death finally got what she wanted, her precious toy. Well, kind of.  
  
Was it worth it? Eva couldn't know yet. There were still scenes yet to play out, and the script was being rewritten constantly. It wasn't finished yet. Nobody knew what would happen next, not even Destiny at this point. There was still one wild card out there, who very well might change this around, though Chaos knows how.  
  
Fate must be having a great time, Lady Luck rolling her dice around and letting a single throw determine their existence. Now the dice were rolling and the rattling had never been graver for the living. Or the dead. Or the immortal.  
  
A solitary tear leaked from her eye, and Eva let it run unhindered down her cheek. From grief or anger or what she didn't know or care.  
  
There was still one thing he could do, one thing to save them all.  
  
In the lonely darkness there, Eva whispered, "Come to me, little phoenix, come to me."  
  
**************************************  
  
Evil? Oh yeah!!!  
  
Finished? Yeah right!!!!  
  
A lot of you may be considering never reading any more of this, especially if I keep making you wait for it. Stick with it, as you have no idea what tricks I still have up my sleeve. Not everything is as it seems, and you haven't even met most of the Guardians yet.  
  
Coming up: reunions, revelations, rituals, a chat with Death, and a deal with the devil. 


	33. Death's Deal

A/N: Happy New Year!! I had this chapter ready as of last year, but ff.net decided to piss me off and wouldn't let me upload this chapter for the past 4 weeks. Sorry to all those who have been waiting.

By the overwhelming decision of the majority, it has become apparent that this universe holds one certain and undeniable truth:

I AM EVIL

There is a thin line between madness and genius. I cross it often.

It seems that I have succeeded in confusing the whole lot of you, especially with the whole clone issue and which Harry was really Harry and which died. I have also succeeded in making a lot of people cry or scream curses in my direction. That was my intention. Everything is completely screwed up right at the moment, and no one really knows what's going on. Except for me!! So hang in there, I'm about to confuse you even more. The full explanation is coming later.

It also seems that I've become a bit of an addiction to some people. Well, I've been addicted to writing this story for a year and a half now, so I'm glad that it's paying off. I figure that if I can't sleep, I'll post this and make sure you can't either. So thanks to everyone who reviewed, and even to those who read without reviewing. You guys and your encouragement make this all worthwhile.

Speaking of addictions, the whole thing with Harry and the talisman is not intentionally based off of Gollum and Lord of the Rings. While I am a big fan, Harry is not going to be calling it his Precious. The same essential idea lies behind the power of the talisman however, how it draws people in to obtain it and use it. It's mainly a safety mechanism. But it has no master. Just to clarify things a little bit.

Answered some reviews at the bottom. Read if you want.

Dedicated to Bladeliger786, who pestered me incessantly until I could post.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his universe, and I'm not making any money off of this. The FINE acronym comes from "The Italian Job." I own the Guardians, Eva, and practically all the other realms of this screwed up universe. If you don't recognize it, then it's also mine, but I'm still not making any money off of it. Pity.

Chapter 33

Voldemort laughed.

It was not a nice laugh.

It was terrible joy and triumph and blood thirst and conquest and anticipation and fear and power lust all wrapped up in a sound only comparable to the shrieks of the Furies flying into battle.

It echoed through the oppressive air hanging over the farthest reaches of the Forbidden Forest, mixing with the ashes and dust and debris that was once the mighty castle of Hogwarts, to shatter the hopes and dreams of the people who once called it home and safety.

Voldemort stood in a clearing lined with knotted tangled trees, all yews of ancient times scowling under the dim dull brown of the sky, perfect for this ritual. The Death Eaters who had survived the resistance at Hogwarts stood at attention in a circle, watching their Master as he prepared the final steps for the ceremony. Not one of them dared move, despite the unnatural chill of the air that had little to do with weather and a lot to do with the presence they could feel lurking just out of mortal sight.

At their Master's beckon, the Death Eaters drew closer, forming a tighter circle of living bodies around a pentacle burned into the grass and drawn in blood. The first talisman lay at the center, the shocking purple/silver 'eyes' piercing through flesh and bone to the souls beneath as it seemed to glare at the Death Eaters. The ebony surface appeared to pulse with a living rhythm, drawing energy from the surroundings.

A cackle from Voldemort managed to draw most of their attention away from the nearly living object at the center, as he finished one last spell on their surroundings and tossed his wand aside. Soon he never need bother with such a crude form of magic any more. He stepped into the center of the pentacle, the second talisman held firmly in his right hand, the clean lines and glint of steel no longer pure, but sinister. 

Voldemort stood there in the exact center for a long moment, and the Death Eaters dared not even to breathe. The air hung thick with anxious anticipation, tainted with fear. Finally he spoke, softly hissing, "At your command, Master."

A chill breeze blew, as if something monstrous was inhaling, drawing everything towards the center. Then a voice, shrill as a howling cat on a chalkboard yet rumbling with the deepest thunder, echoed from all around. "Now. You may begin."

The orb talisman throbbed with energy, a ring of dark flames surrounding it at Voldemort's feet licking low to the ground. Ignoring it, Voldemort called out, "Lucius Malfoy, my faithful servant, step forward." The man straightened, visibly suppressing a shiver even as he approached his chosen Master. At a look he knelt just outside the carved lines, bowing low and keeping his eyes to the ground.

Voldemort smiled a death's head grin, full of rotting pointed teeth and malicious mischief. "You have proven yourself to me. Now you will receive your reward." Lucius rose and stood with the pride of a Malfoy, letting a tiny smug smile drift across his lips as he looked the Dark Lord straight in the eye. It was his turn for power – this was what all he had wanted to accomplish by joining the Darkness. 

Then his eyes bulged out, his mouth falling open as he gasped for air, tasting blood on his tongue. Voldemort withdrew the dagger, now shiny with wet blood, as the elder Malfoy expelled all the air in his lungs from the new hole in his trachea. One hand reached up slowly to his neck, and he stared at the blood now seeping down his black robes in a crimson tide.

At a whispered command, the blood ceased soaking the cloth and began running down like water on plastic. He felt a curious draining and sucking sensation swirling through his body, drawing upwards and out. Lucius could only watch as his blood, his precious pure bred blood, dripped off at his feet, pooling then draining into the grooves made in the grass by the pentacle, filling them in. 

Ice crept up through his body, sucking all strength and leaving only emptiness behind. His vision wavered as black encroached, narrowing down to a pinpoint of light in the distance. 

As he dimly felt his body fall to the ground, that light flickered, then was snuffed out with a blast of icy wind.

The pentacle glowed balefully with red light, streamed through the thick liquid lining it. The orb pulsed stronger yet as the ebony flames grew higher, fluttering like raven's wings while leeching all heat from the air. The Death Eaters were panicking like animals, fighting to get away and save themselves. But in mind only; the spells on the clearing held them firmly in place, moving not a muscle until their Master called them forward for their reward.

Voldemort examined the knife with almost adoring attention, then licked a line of blood from the steel blade. A hissing breath signaled his satisfaction, and he extended one hand, long pale finger crooked in invitation as he beckoned his next follower to him.

************************************************************

Despite the fact that it was nearly noon, the forest was dark as pitch and nearly as filthy. Snape utilized this to his advantage, creeping stealthily through the haze and following his path back to Hogwarts.

Or what was left of it.

Everyone who had managed to make it to the mountains had seen and felt it as Hogwarts disappeared in a huge explosion, flame and smoke erupting like an enraged volcano. All the magic tied to the school had vanished, imploding with a violent rushing wind that had carried the debris further up, until the smoke and ash blotted out the sun, creating this unnatural dusk.

Unsure of how the battle had ended, Snape had the wound in his side healed quickly by a subdued Madame Pomfrey, then began the treacherous path back to his former home. The forest was silent aside from the occasional crack and rumble of trees shattered on impact from falling stone, and Snape crept through it as swiftly as possible, not eager to be crushed himself. 

Soon he emerged from the forest, hiding among the burnt skeletons of trees at the edge to survey the grounds. What he saw shook even his calloused heart. Death lay like a smothering blanket on once peaceful landscape, present in the oozing blood, mangled bodies and shattered ruins. The air itself was foul, thick with stench and ash, choked with decay and blood and smoke. Nothing even moved aside from a few guttering fires where a proud castle once stood.

Snape stepped out from cover, knowing that nothing alive remained here but needing to check for himself. He drew up part of his cloak around his mouth to breath through as he gingerly began making his way around a pile of demon corpses. Then he heard the whine and stopped, searching for its origin.

The low sound of an animal in pain came again, followed by a couple weak yips. Snape knew those sounds. Quickly he headed in their direction, kicked aside a couple carcasses, and found him. A silver wolf lay panting and wounded on its side, hot blood matting its fur to its ribs. Snape swore softly before he asked with incredulity, "Lupin?"

A quick yip confirmed his instincts, and Snape knew he wasn't safe, not with this transformation. But maybe he could reverse it, as it had nothing to do with the natural lunar cycle. Drawing his wand, he muttered feverishly, "Finite transmorphium," hoping this had enough power to undo it. If not, it might just make the wolf mad, and then he was really dead.

A beam of sunny-yellow light enveloped the wolf, and slowly, agonizingly, he began to change back into Remus. Snape watched with impassive eyes as bones cracked and reformed, stretching skin like wax over the new shapes, fur gradually sinking back into their follicles. Sharp canine fangs withdrew to normal teeth as paws expanded and elongated into fingers and hands.

Finally the man lay shuddering and bleeding on the torn-up earth, his eyes closed as he panted shallowly and coughed. Luckily his wound didn't appear that deep, and Snape managed to at least seal it with a few healing charms, which he had grudgingly learned even though he much preferred potions. 

Once he knew Remus would live, he tried to get him to rise. "Come on Lupin, we need to leave," he hissed as he half-pulled the werewolf upright. "No," came the weak, pain-filled response, "no . . . I . . . Harry, oh God . . . I didn't . . ." Snape shook him roughly. "What happened? What about Potter?" Remus only moaned softly and hung his head.

"Where is he?" Snape gritted out, patience gone, but Remus was sinking into shock and didn't answer. Easing him back to the ground, Snape started a quick search for the teen, dread prickling at his gut. Potter hadn't made it back to the mountains, either one of them, and if Remus was any indication, something had gone seriously wrong.

Reaching an area relatively clear of demons, he halted as his eyes went wide at the horrific sight. Surrounded by fallen foundation stones, Harry lay there on the burned grass, eyes blankly staring at the sky above the blood-darkened blade protruding from his chest.

Snape swore quietly with feeling and stood there staring, as the last faint flicker of hope he had carefully nurtured died. With Potter dead, they had lost. Voldemort had the talisman. It was only a matter of time, maybe a handful of days at the very best, before he wiped out the Hogwarts survivors and last of the resistance.

Snape painfully straightened and with a short spell had the mangled body floating after him, albeit deprived of its new piercing. They may have lost, but that didn't mean they would quit fighting. Snape wasn't the type to wait quietly for doom to crash down on his head. A blaze of glory was much too Gryffindor for his liking, but as long as he took a few of his enemies with him, it would be good enough.

Shaking himself from these dour and unhelpful thoughts, Snape carefully made his way back to where Remus lay curled in a shaking ball. He shook the man's shoulder until he looked up, and said softly, "Let's go." Realizing the wards were down and wouldn't prevent him, Snape took hold of both Harry and Remus, and Apparated to the mountain cave, leaving the battlefield to the silence of death.

Or maybe not.

Snape had missed one.

*****************************************************

Harry floated in a massive sea of pain and weariness, barely aware of his surroundings. Even the huge stone pinning his leg painfully to the ground hardly attracted undue attention. He vaguely thought that it must have broken his leg when it landed, but the agony of being ripped in half and the shock of Hogwarts exploding made that bit of pain trivial.

But as his body begged to be relieved of this unbearable torment, his mind stubbornly rebelled against it. His talisman had been taken from him, and he would do anything to get it back. He could feel it getting farther away, and instinctively he tried to get up and follow it. Weakly he managed to prop himself up on his elbows, but a single tug at his trapped leg sent such a crashing wave of pain through him he fell back, gasping against the darkness encircling his vision.

It did clear his mind however, and his anger sharpened his focus marvelously. He lay on the blood-soaked ground and tried to assess his situation analytically. His clone was dead and half his soul gone; his magic severely depleted; Hogwarts evacuated and destroyed; Voldemort had the talisman and had gone to do the ritual which would make him immortal and invincible.

Basically, it didn't look good. At all.

He remembered Lady Death's warnings when he had first refused to destroy the talisman per her orders, and winced. This was all his fault, and now he was helpless here, unable to do anything but wait until Voldemort/Lucifer came back to finish him off. 

Or maybe not.

Staring blankly up at the clouds of smoke and dust hanging low in the sky, Harry realized he could do one thing. It was risky, but not more so than staying here, plus he was fairly confident it would work. After all, he had done something similar before although not deliberately. He took a deep breath of foul air and closed his eyes, turning his senses and whatever scraps of magic he could reach inward.

He could still sense, albeit faintly, the nearly nonexistent link that had once connected his soul together in one whole. He could follow it, he knew he could. And he even had a pretty good idea where his other half had gone.

Time to have a chat with Lady Death.

Now he turned his attention to his heart, thudding with life, doggedly restraining him here to this plane of existence. Gathering his strength, Harry set all his magic and will on stopping that beat. 

His heart beat, skipped, beat again, paused, beat twice, struggled to maintain a life rhythm. Harry's senses dimmed and faded away, leaving only this trembling organ and its echoing thunder that slowed more and more, but still blocked him from the dark path where the link shone faintly. This was the last obstacle.

One last thrust of magic, a shouted command. 

*STOP!!* 

It quivered, then was still. The dark path lay open. Instant of eternal silence.

Then the battlefield held only the dead.

*****

The first thing Harry was aware of was the screams.

The screams of the damned, burning, melting, decaying in an endless lake of fire.

The screams and cackles of demons feasting on ill-spilt blood.

The screams of souls plunging headlong to destruction and powerless to stop it. 

The screams of a mother forced to watch her child be ripped apart before her eyes.

The screams of souls rushing by him for the world left behind, terrified of the unknown and emerging, still screaming.

The screams of a man as every bone in his body was snapped into tiny fragments.

But most of all, as the others faded in the distance, the screams of utter rage that echoed over the plains of the dead, screams originating from a furious Fate.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!!! YOU MAGGOTY DISEASE-RIDDEN PILES OF STINKING RAT ENTRAILS!!! GET YOUR LOUSY BASTARD CARCASSES BACK HERE NOW!!!"

Harry opened his eyes to find himself lying flat on his back in a hilly field of soft fern-like grass, staring up at a sky so brilliantly blue it seemed overlaid with white and gold. Of course, the fact that the sky also seemed to be spinning erratically in his vision convinced him that it probably wasn't a good idea to move anytime soon. Besides, there was a strange thumping under his head that he wasn't sure whether it came from his skull or not.

That question was solved when he heard two laughing voices approach – he was hearing their running footsteps on the ground. "That was . . . bloody brilliant," one panted as they stopped just out of Harry's field of view, hidden by the tall grass. "Indeed . . . I don't believe . . . we've ever heard anyone . . . scream that loud."

"Not Ginny when she found her dolls shaved bald . . ." "Not Ron when we turned his teddy into a spider . . ." "Not even Percy when we showed Penny that naked baby photo . . ." They broke up laughing again, and Harry closed his eyes with a smile to hear the infamous Weasley twins in their element.

Suddenly a very familiar voice interrupted, "What did you two do now?" That was Ginny, amusement shining through each word. "Why, darling Gin-Gin, you gave us the idea." 

"Yes. Remember in our third year we said we'd send you a Hogwarts toilet seat?" "We decided to leave Fate a gift in her room since she keeps popping up to bother Death." 

Loud feminine laughter joined them, and Harry could identify at least three different voices. Then Tori asked, "How many?" Fred answered with clear satisfaction, "Chaos helped us a lot. By the time we finished, we couldn't walk into the room." 

A whole group of people were roaring with laughter now, and Harry reveled in the pure sound of it. It had been so long since he'd heard such unrestrained glee. Sirius barked out a particularly loud laugh and said lazily, "You know, it isn't exactly the smartest thing to go pranking Fate." 

George shrugged and said pointedly, "It wasn't all that smart to go prank Snape in his own dormitory either, but that never stopped some people."

Fred grinned. "Besides, she deserved it." George nodded enthusiastically. "It was harmless . . . mostly." 

"Chaos' trap won't hurt . . . that much." 

"Just a little fun." 

"She'll get over it." 

Dumbledore shook his head with a grin. "I seriously doubt that boys. More likely she will nurse her grudge for the rest of eternity, cursing the fact that she can't do anything in retaliation."

There was a general noise of consensus, and Harry opened his eyes to find that the world had stopped spinning around him. He should try to get up and find Death before his time here ran out. He stretched a bit, finding all of his muscles working despite the pain that still throbbed through him. But even that had diminished to manageable levels, probably now as his other half was closer than a universe away.

Then Lily spoke up, and Harry froze to listen to her voice. "Has anyone seen Death lately? Destiny, Chaos and Time were all looking for her earlier." Cedric shrugged and settled casually back into the grass. "So was Love. Word is that she's locked herself away in the city somewhere, savoring her newest acquisition. At least according to the new arrivals." 

James grumbled, "There sure are a lot of them today. Good thing most of them don't stick around here. But I saw a whole group that looked like students just a bit ago." Percy cleared his throat, apparently wanting to leave that subject alone. "By the way Ron, what do you think of it here so far?"

Harry started; he had forgotten. He listened with a strange ache of sadness as Ron answered slowly, "Well, it's nice and all, and a great change from . . . well, the war and all . . . but," he sighed. "I miss Hermione. I keep remembering the last time I saw her face . . . how devastated she was. And Harry too." 

He paused, then said with a savage relish, "At least she took care of Malfoy. And then Death exiled him down . . ." He snorted softly. Lily drew in a little breath and blew it out. "At least you haven't seen either of them here," she reminded Ron, who startled a bit. "Oh . . . yeah, I guess . . . you're right."

Harry chose that moment to sit up and take stock of his surroundings. The group of about a dozen sat off to his left on the opposite side of the crest of the hill, only a few meters away. Smiling in relief at the familiar faces, Harry scrambled to his feet and walked over to them. At the sound of his approach, they all turned and eyes went wide. 

Ron gaped for a moment, then jumped to his feet and hugged him tightly. "Harry! When did . . . how . . . ah hell mate, good to see you!" James and Lily were right behind, and as soon as Ron released him they swept their son in a massive hug for the first time. Harry felt his shoulder grow wet with his mum's tears, and had to blink back his own.

Eventually they broke away, and Sirius ruffled his hair with a grin. "Nice to see your hair back to normal, even if it does look like you stood on your head in a tornado." "What?" Harry reached a hand up, and to his surprise the long heavy braid was gone, replaced by his infamous short and wildly untamable mop, exactly like his dad's. 

Smiling widely, he shook his head free from the extra weight and commented, "Well, that's a relief. Unexpected, but good." Ginny snickered and ran a hand through his hair. "I like it. This suits you anyways." Lily laughed and ruffled James' hair. "We can tell exactly where you got that from now."

James shrugged out from under Lily and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder, looking at once joyful but solemn. "Harry, I'm sorry to see you here, but still, seeing you again is just . . ." He smiled, unable to find words to describe the feeling. Ron suddenly looked despondent. "So, if you're here, then Hermione is all alone." He looked around, half fearful and half hopeful. "She's not . . . she's not going to follow you here, is she?"

Harry shook his head. "She's safe with your family for the moment. And I'm not staying." Everyone seemed startled, then Sirius barked out a laugh. "You're just dropping in for a visit again? At least this time you said hello. And how do you keep bypassing the entrance?" 

Harry frowned, so James explained, "Everyone who comes here first arrives in the city to meet Lady Death, before she sends them out here. You just keep popping in from nowhere."

Harry shrugged and quirked a small smile. "Yeah, well, I'm a little unorthodox. I still have some unfinished business back there. But I need to talk to Death." Tori snorted. "Usually people try to avoid her company, not seek her out." 

Harry grimaced. "Something's going on with the Guardians, and it's all centered around the talisman, Lucifer, Voldemort and me. Someone's screwing someone over, I know it."

Sirius nodded darkly. "Yeah. We're the ones getting screwed. We're not supposed to be here." Harry looked up sharply. "What?" Everyone nodded, grim expressions on their faces. "We're not supposed to be here," Fred reiterated. 

"Y'know, that whole blood, gore, fire and death upon your head and why don't you come meet Lady Death? Not supposed to happen, at least not yet," George clarified. 

James bumped Sirius' shoulder with a playful grin. "Padfoot here even picked a fight with Death after she brought him here. I thought that if she was a man, he would have decked her." Lily swatted his shoulder. "Look who's talking, Mr. I-pranked-Death-because-I-was-sulking-over-being-killed." 

James put on a perfect doe eyed expression of innocence. "Tell me again, who was it who actually slapped Death across the face when she realized her son was all alone?"

Lily turned a bit red as Harry grinned at her. "Mum? You slapped Death?" She nodded a bit shamefully, then straightened. "It served her right. She even admitted that she wasn't supposed to have done anything with us, but she did anyways and left you alone with my awful sister." 

Harry furrowed his brow with confusion. "How could she do that? She's a Guardian; there are rules they have to follow. She'd be going against the entire order of her existence." Tori arched an eyebrow wryly. "Well, apparently she's breaking the rules then. What can they do? Kill her?" 

Sirius frowned, eyes fixed on Harry. "She said it wasn't her call, that she was just following orders from someone else. When I asked, she said, 'Ask your godson.'" Now they were all staring at Harry, who was growing more perplexed by the second.

He raked a hand through his hair and confessed, "I have no idea what she's talking about. I haven't spoken to Death since the first episode with the Dream Stand." Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "You mean, you're spoken with Death before?" 

Harry nodded, even more confused. "She's the one who directed me to the talisman and let me search the shadow archives for its location. She also showed me the dream in Voldemort's throne room that allowed me to rescue Snape."

Fred and George exchanged glances, then slowly George said, "Fate said something about Death meddling in something she shouldn't . . ." "Because that's Fate's job," Fred finished with a little grin. "She's been really mad about that." 

Harry turned and frowned in the direction of the City of the Dead, not liking the picture that was beginning to coalesce in his brain. "I need to speak with Lady Death," he said abruptly, and as he started for the city at a fast clip, the others followed. 

Sirius came up beside him and asked softly, "Harry, how are you doing?" "I'm fine," the teen answered shortly, and Sirius snorted. "You do know that 'fine' is really an acronym for Freaked out, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at that. "In that case, I'm perfectly fine." 

Ron tapped his shoulder as he matched his long stride. "Harry, what happened? With the battle I mean. How'd you get here?" Harry sighed. "The battle was a complete disaster. I'm not sure, but I think we got about two-thirds of the students evacuated to the cave and took out a good portion of the Death Eaters. But in the end the last of us ran with our tails tucked. He had some demons in reserve, and surrounded us on the lawn, but everyone else managed to get to the forest. Except me, Harry and Remus."

Ron nodded. "You were Wraith." "Yeah," Harry scrubbed at this face with his hands, noting the pain that still wracked his body just under his conscious mind was slowly easing with every step taken towards the city. "Voldemort forced Remus to transform, and the werewolf went after Harry." 

Lily gasped behind him. "He didn't hurt him," Harry hastened to add, hating every word, "but somehow Harry fell on his sword, and it impaled him through the back."

He winced in remembrance, hearing the sharp indrawn breaths around him. "I felt him die. Half of me just suddenly ripped away to leave a great bloody hole. I couldn't move it hurt so bad." The twins nodded sympathetically, knowing exactly how that felt.

"Voldemort found me there and stole the talisman. When he left, they blew up Hogwarts. Basically nothing remains." He kept striding forward with his eyes straight ahead, determined not to let them see how badly it affected him, and for a while they marched in silence.

Finally Ginny asked softly, "Harry, how did you get here?" Harry didn't answer for a long moment, and she was about to ask again when he finally spoke. "I . . . my body was trapped under one of the foundation stones. I didn't have enough strength to lift it off by magic. I couldn't move, and I wasn't going to wait around for Voldemort to come back and finish me off. So . . . I used what magic I could . . . and I . . . I stopped my heart."

Ginny inhaled sharply. "Suicide?" she murmured unhappily, "but that . . ." He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "I need to speak with Death, and this was the only way I know." He tried to smile at her, but it came off as a twisted grimace. "Besides, does it count if you don't stay dead?" 

"How do you know that you won't?" she countered with a touch of fire. "You've been here a long time already." He shrugged. "I'm guessing. But I've never stayed dead before, and besides, Death owes me one. Or two, or a few." 

Now they were skirting through the edges of the city, the others clearly jumpy even as they followed Harry. "We've never come this far in before," Cedric whispered, glancing warily around. The city seemed to frown upon their presence, but undeterred Harry managed to lead them to the center, where just as in the City of the Guardians, a giant library stood.

Fred tried to lighten the mood as Harry lifted his fist to knock. "Harry, hasn't anybody ever told you never to knock on Death's door?" George nodded sagely. "Just ring the bell and run. Death hates that." James grinned. "Playing Ding Dong Duck with Death. Should have thought of that one ages ago." 

Harry rolled his eyes and knocked sharply three times. The door swung open, and Death's voice floated out to him. "Do come in, young phoenix. Your friends must stay outside." They all looked more than happy to stay where they were, but as Harry stepped forward Sirius put a hand on his shoulder. "Careful Harry, she likes to be purposely cryptic."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, then walked through the door, which immediately slammed shut behind him. He felt his feet carrying him along a dizzying maze of corridor without any input from his brain, and knew that unless Death let him out, he would be lost in here forever. Finally he turned a corner and walked into a room that at first made him think he had stepped outside.

The ceiling glowed with the same blue-white-gold, grass swished underfoot, and a fresh breeze stirred through his hair as he looked around, trying to find the entrance that he had just walked through. He quickly forgot about that when he looked forward again. Lady Death stood there, incongruous in the verdant grass in her austere silver and black. At her feet sat Harry, arms casually draped over his drawn-up knees, watching him intently.

Death sighed. "Do you know, young phoenix, that most suicides go to hell?" Harry frowned. "Why is that? Why do you punish those who want to embrace you early?" Death arched an eyebrow. "Because they're usually too depressing to keep around here. It's one of the cruel ironies of the universe." 

Harry rolled his eyes as he snorted softly. "Yeah, it seems to be full of those. But this isn't about suicide, it's about solutions." Harry at her feet piped up wryly, "Death isn't the answer, she just has them." 

Harry eyed him. "Speaking of that, what happened between us? How did he become autonomous?" Death frowned slightly. "Did I not tell you to destroy the talisman as soon as you found it?"

Harry protested, "Yes, but the documents I found said that it would be next to impossible to destroy. Even the Guardians couldn't do it without the risk of something seriously going wrong." 

Death shook her head. "If you had followed instructions, you would have found those to be true for anyone but you. Just as the One of prophecy could be the only one to claim it, so he could be the only one to destroy it safely."

He frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. How was I supposed to do something the Guardians can't?" Death almost smiled. "While we could not ourselves, we could ordain someone else to do it for us. It's one of the loopholes in the laws of the universe. We cannot break them, but we can bend them. You were even given instructions on how to do it."

Harry shook his head. "What instructions? And what does this have to do with him?" He gestured with irritation at his counterpart, and Death calmly clasped her hands in front of her. "You were given instructions on your birthday, and it has everything to do with him. The talisman's powers are far too strong for a mortal to withstand for long. It changed you. 

"With using your clone, it split you into two people. Did you not notice that it was only after you recovered the talisman that you, Wraith, were willing to kill? That you were not above grandstanding, or that you let your anger feed your magic and increase your power? The talisman removed your inhibitions and changed you. The clone was more Harry than you were."

Harry scowled at that. "Why didn't you tell me before? I would have destroyed it if I knew it was affecting me." Death shrugged. "Would you have? The dagger talisman, once claimed, attached itself to you. It made you want to protect it, to keep it from Voldemort, to keep away from the orb talisman. I told you to destroy it, thinking that you would have before it managed to start affecting you. Instead you used it to pick a fight."

He glared. "Again, why didn't you tell me that? It could have saved us a lot of grief." She met his glare with an impartial one of her own. "It was not my place. It was all in the instructions Fate gave you." Harry muttered, "And we're back to the damn instructions. What do you mean? I've never spoken with Fate."

"No, you have not," she agreed placidly, "but all the Guardians can appoint one of the Shamak'la to do what needs to be done. You do not need to speak to Fate for her to order you around. She meddles quite enough by being invisible." 

"Like you, you mean," he shot back in frustration. "Sirius was right. You are being cryptic."

The corners of Death's mouth twitched in an almost smile. "I am answering you quite clearly. It is you who is not asking the right questions." 

Harry exchanged an exasperated look with Harry and sighed heavily. "Fine. According to the prophecy, I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort. But now that he has the talisman, he's got Lucifer with him. So if he has help, I need help. Can you help me?"

Death stared at him. "You are asking me to violate my Code of the Guardians." "Apparently you already have," Harry retorted. "Why is my request so different from you snatching the wrong people at the wrong time? At least this would do some good." Death winced, nearly imperceptibly but enough for Harry to catch it. 

"For that matter, he's not supposed to be here either," Harry pointed at Harry. "If nothing else, I need him back. The prophecy speaks of One, not One Half." 

Death shook her head. "You cannot have him back. He is dead." 

"So am I." 

"Yes, but technically you are only mostly dead. He is all dead."

Harry frowned. "But we're both only half here, so technically he can only be half-dead. And isn't he me too? So he can't stay dead for long, just like me." 

Death bit her bottom lip before answering. "Yes and no. He is half of you, but all dead, so he belongs here." 

Harry shook his head. "No, he's mine and belongs with me, so I think my half-life outweighs his half-death." 

She rubbed her forehead. "But your half-life is decaying more towards half-death the longer you stay here." 

Harry threw up his hands in frustration. "This isn't nuclear chemistry. I need answers, and quickly." He began to pace. "A prophecy is connected to the laws of the universe, which cannot be violated. I need to be whole again in order to complete it, so by your own mandate of existence you have to give him up."

Death sighed, unhappiness flitting across her features. "This is different. He is mine, since he is dead. My job is to take people, not restore them. Singly I do not have that power." 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a headache that threatened to be a migraine in proportion. "All right." He continued pacing while he thought. "Is there any truth to the stories of people making deals with Death? Is there any way for us to work out a compromise? I need my other half and the ability to defeat Voldemort before I go back." 

Death arched an eyebrow. "What makes you think you will go back? By your own admission, you are dead." He shot her a venomous look. "Are you going to claim me as your own as well?" he asked softly.

She shrugged. "Well, as you have said I have already violated my rules. Maybe I will just decide to keep you here, as my rightful property. I am sure you would be delightful company." She ran a possessive hand through Harry's hair, petting a faithful pet. "It might be fun to have two of you." 

Harry growled and stepped right up to her, meeting her inhuman silver gaze.

"You're wrong. First, if I was permanently dead, I don't think there would still be two of me here. Second, I've never stayed dead before. I'm guessing I'm not allowed until it's my time. Which lastly means that universal law cannot dictate that until the prophecy is fulfilled. So don't even start with me about me being your property too. I'm not in the mood."

She pursed her lips. "You are quite adept at manipulating the laws to suit you. You have a better chance at immortality than Voldemort at the rate you are going." 

He glared at her. "And whose fault is that? If you and Fate hadn't started meddling in the first place, things could have been quite different." 

She smirked at him, the most emotion he'd ever seen in her eyes conveying through the ice exterior. "Yes, I have made some mistakes, but they are relatively minor compared to the mistakes you have made. So if I wanted to keep you here with me, who is to say that I am not stopping you from making an even greater mistake?" 

Harry huffed out a breath, wondering if she was trying to justify her meddling and if she actually had the power to stop him.

He changed tactics and tried to reason with her. "If Lucifer takes over, isn't your own power threatened?" Death met his eyes almost unwillingly, then nodded once, and he pressed, "So it's in your best interest to help me." She nodded again, and he sighed. "So tell me. What do you want from me, in return for what I need?"

For an eternity, Death stared at him contemplatively, thinking and sizing him up. Then her silver eyes turned to the bright sky above, seeing beyond it into the unknown distance. Harry waited, forcing himself not to wring his hands together by gripping at his sides, tensely hoping. 

Finally Death focused on him again, eyes locking. "There is a way, but it will affect more than just you. Symmetry must be kept." 

She looked down briefly at Harry sitting at her feet. "I can make you a deal; a life for a life. I can restore both of you, rejoined as a whole, and give you a portion of my own power. This can be used for only one purpose – to defeat Lucifer. Very shortly he will be embodied, and when he comes after you, you can deal with both him and Voldemort at same."

Harry blinked, surprised. She was giving him exactly what he needed, and without extra haggling on his part. Death must have seen the hope rising, for she raised a hand as if to forestall his reaction. "In return, once your enemy is defeated, you will follow him. You must die, and you will belong to me, here, permanently."

Harry nearly laughed. That was it? His life in return for the safety of the world? He'd taken that for granted, subconsciously at least, ever since he learned how far Voldemort was willing to go to kill him. He let a slight smile cross his lips as he commented lightly, "That sounds fair to me. We have a deal."

He held out his hand, and with a sly smile Death grasped it firmly with her ice cold one. Immediately he felt it: the fiery power within him joined and tempered by icy strength, frozen in his chest with a specific purpose. 

He closed his eyes and shivered as it became part of him, the knowledge of what he had done and what he now had to do pressing heavily on him. Death released his hand, but he stood there gasping and shuddering for another long moment. Eventually Death said with an impatient bite, "You do not have much time, young phoenix." 

He nodded, fighting down the chills, then offered his hand to Harry. After he hauled himself to his feet, they clapped their hands on the other's shoulders, and with a weird flowing motion like vapor through water, Harry stood there whole again.

He sighed with relief as the last pain of separation vanished and his power recharged. He felt like his old self again, before the talisman-induced schizophrenia started playing with his mind. He looked at Death, a Mona Lisa smile on her lips, and with her single nod the world around him dissolved in a swirl of colors.

Harry found himself floating in nothingness, and nearly groaned. Not this again. He was sure Death did that on purpose, the conniving little . . . Why couldn't he just take the express back to reality? 

He fought against it, trying to find a light to lead him back to his world, even as the ice in his chest seemed to want to go back to where he'd just left. Concentrating fiercely, he found a connection that seemed familiar and grasped it firmly, hauling himself back towards reality.

With a jolt and a loud gasp of desperately-needed air, Harry lay on the blood-drenched, debris-strewn battlefield, leg still pinned by the massive stone, and completely exhausted. Despite that, he felt marginally better than he had in a long time, and definitely better than when he'd left.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, and as the sky was still choked with dust and smoke he couldn't tell. How long did the ritual take? How much longer did he have before they came for him? Putting that aside for now, he concentrated on getting the blasted rock off his leg.

A simple Levitating charm moved it enough for him to slip out, and gingerly he tested his leg. His foot was at an unnatural angle, no doubt due to a broken ankle, and his shin was curved inward from a shattered tibia. 

Painful and inconvenient, but not crippling. If he had enough time, he could heal himself enough to walk; too bad he didn't have all his potions on him right now, or else it'd be fixed in less than a minute.

Idly he wondered whether or not Madame Pomfrey had survived, and how much she'd scold him for getting injured yet again. Briefly he thought about going to the cave in the mountains; somebody there would be able to fix him up in a trice, plus he could see exactly who had survived. 

But Voldemort/Lucifer would be coming for him personally, and this confrontation was guaranteed to be messy. Better to stay out here where everyone was already dead. The fewer witnesses, the better. He'd better be ready.

Harry glanced around for his staff, remembering that he'd dropped it somewhere nearby, and frowned when he didn't see it. Holding out a hand, he summoned it to him, and about ten feet away a demon corpse shifted aside, and the staff limped to his hand. 

Examining it closely, Harry noted with despair that there were a few hairline cracks in the wood, and the ruby on top was missing along with the carved claws that held it in place.

Sighing, he tried to summon those to him, but they only came after his third attempt, the ruby the only piece still intact. Probing the wood along the fracture lines, he knew that he could repair them fairly easily, given some time and attention. 

Using the staff to steady himself, Harry managed to clamber to his feet and limped away towards the ruins of Hogwarts. With whatever time he had, he needed fix his staff, rest himself, and heal his leg. 

He had one last chance, and he was not going to screw this up.

***********************************************

Death strode out of her city and out into the hills, where she knew they liked to gather. Sure enough, a crowd of now over 100 people were milling and talking amongst themselves. Several were telling stories, and one blond haired teen was acting something out for a crowd of students his own age amid much laughter. Some of the younger ones played in the grass while others simply reclined easily, watching the sky. 

She stood at the top of a hill, watching them and debating how to do this. She hadn't told Harry all the specifics of the deal she had offered him, but she was worried that if she had, he would have refused. After all, she wasn't actually supposed to do this. 

Death couldn't imagine how many rules she was breaking, and certainly if the other Guardians got word of this they would be furious. 

Internally she shrugged. Too late for anybody to do anything about this. 

Now looking down at the group, she realized she hadn't thought about the details when she offered the deal, and she pursed her lips with irritation. Maybe she should just do this as simply as possible, and let them work out the kinks. Who knows how long they'd last anyway, and after they were gone it really wasn't Death's problem anymore.

Sirius spotted her and broke off his conversation with Fred and George to call out to her gaily, "Well, good morning to you, Lady Death. Where be Harry this fine day? And what have we done to merit the pleasure of your company?" 

Everyone turned to look at her, and Death met all their eyes calmly with her usual icy exterior. 

"Your presence is not longer required here."

She clapped her hands twice, and with a rush of hot wind they all disappeared. Death closed her eyes and slumped a bit as the last little flicker of fire inside her sparkled out, its purpose fulfilled. She hadn't told Harry that just as she gave, she had to take. Her power alone couldn't have done what he wanted, so she borrowed some of his, trading ice for fire.

She was still standing there when an altogether too familiar scream raked across her nerves. "What in the name of all seven circles of damnation did you do now, you crazy bitch?!" 

Death smiled, feeling a bit of her old spirit manifest in nearly forgotten mannerisms. "Look who's talking. And besides, it isn't your place to swear on my realm, now is it Fate?"

She turned to see Fate boiling towards her like a thundercloud, and as dark as one, eyes and hair rippling in her angry colors. Behind her, Destiny followed at a more stately pace, her face creased with worry and perhaps a touch of fear. 

Chaos loped alongside, looking positively joyful at the impending confrontation, and no doubt at what she had just done. He always loved calamity and confusion, especially when he caused it. No wonder the Weasley twins got along with him so well. Still, there was also some worry in his sparkling blue eyes, and his youthful face had some unaccustomed frown lines.

Love sprinted easily as his side, sporting the appearance today of a lovely young blond maiden with graceful energy, complementing Chaos with youth and beauty. She was frowning prettily but unhappily at Death, who felt vaguely irritated at her chosen façade. 

She preferred it when Love didn't go with the stereotypical foldout look and did something different, like a middle aged man with graying hair and a pot belly. Or an older woman thick from childbearing but still with her same beautiful smile. Or one memorable time when she assumed the male counterpart of Fate, and had her three Shamak'la running in terror of a temper tantrum.

Death decided to ignore those two for now and focused on Fate, crossing her arms over her chest. "I am only doing what you wanted me to a long time ago. I'm putting things back." 

Fate was literally shaking with rage, her voice loud but tightly controlled. "What have you done?" she gritted out. "We all felt it. Now what did you do?"

Death shrugged. "Exactly as I said. Putting things back, hopefully to rights. Nobody is where they are not supposed to be anymore." 

Destiny sucked in an unhappy breath between her teeth, which were biting her lower lip. "You don't understand. Whatever you've done has seriously disrupted everything. My books are useless now. I can't write them."

Death gave a negligent shrug. "Nothing I can do about that. What is done is done, and it cannot be stopped now." Fate growled, a low rumble in her chest. "You're acting like you used to before the whole talisman fiasco. Remember what that led to? Now it's getting worse!!" The two women glared at each other, tension and violence building between them like a storm.

Chaos stepped forward and clapped a hand on Death's shoulder. "Hey Death, normally I like anything that put Destiny's nose out of joint. But this time, I think you've seriously gone too far." 

Death cocked her head. "And you do not like the fact that you cannot continue your competition with the Weasley twins." 

Chaos grinned his lopsided beaming grin, mischief shining in his eyes. "Well, yeah, that too. If it wasn't for the fact that they're mortal, I'd've sworn they were the missing two parts of my triplet." 

Death allowed herself to be amused, and a tiny smile curled the corners of her lips. "Chaos, I name thee Weasley." 

Laughing  heartily, Chaos changed his hair to a fiery Weasley red for a minute and very nearly could pass for Fred and George's brother, especially with that grin on his face. Fate rolled her eyes and poked Chaos rather roughly in the chest. "Quit encouraging them," she ordered, and he rubbed at his chest as he chuckled. "You're just mad over that toilet seat prank. That was classic." 

Fate huffed and rounded on him, and while they bickered Love walked up to Death and said quietly, "I don't understand. You've just decreased your own power, and for what? This is not the time to be weakening yourself. Our enemy will take advantage." She looked around at the empty plain, sorrow radiating from her. "You're making all our jobs harder to do, except for Chaos and he doesn't need it."

"No, but it helps!" he shot back before Fate directed her ire on him again, with was rather surprising since they normally got along so well. Love's golden eyes, the one part of her that never changed, met Death's silver ones. "What have you done?" 

Death contemplated telling her, explaining this multi-realm chess match in action. How sometimes a sacrifice needs to be made for the greater good; that one piece must be taken for another to advance to victory. Her gambit was risky, yes, but if it worked the payoff would be worth the risk. 

But she doubted the others would see it that way. They would question her motivations, and those she couldn't explain at the moment. Not when she barely understood them herself.

Without answering, Death straightened and turned away, escaping that searching gaze that seemed to piece through her and emerge knowing all too much. "Just wait and see," she called back, and disappeared in her city, internally cursing the lot of them. Especially Love. 

It was all her fault.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Raven Eades: Hope you recognize a quote or two in here. *winks* Thanks for the inspiration.

The Keymaker: Thank you so much for your insightful reviews of most of the story. I appreciate your encouragement, and actually agree with most of your observed complaints/disagreements. However, the romance bit stays the same. I do believe that heroes are capable of finding true love, and history shows that most are not doomed to live alone. In JKR's version Harry will probably end up with someone really special. I'm not trying to do a stereotype, but rather make a point as to how much Fate is actually meddling with Harry's life. Also it sets up a nice unrequited love aspect with Eva, which is a lot more fun to write and tease the readers with. The fact that I'm single has nothing to do with it. *winks* As for the word count, the first stats I saw on OoTP in a magazine said 121,000 words. But later stats expanded it to over 200,000. I'm inclined toward the larger number, since it is a massive book. Still, I think this project might come out to the same length or larger when it's finished.

JamesTag: Ummm, if I'm evil, which we both agree on, why in the name of all that's holy would you want me to have your children?! You might have to fight it out with Michu. (see below) Never hurts to have one more person bowing at your feet though.

Michu: Glad I keep amazing you. And the offer's still up? You might have to fight with JamesTag about it. (see above)

Pheonixelemental: So how many evils was that? I lost count. You're going to come and beat me?! *snorts with laughter* That might be mildly entertaining. The Latin sayings mean, respectively, "No one strikes at me with impunity," and "I'm not lost."

Clifjumpr13: You think so little of me.  I won't and can't do that last bit since there are no prisoners to release. They're all dead. Here there's no such thing as dying nobly. Name one character who has – I dare you. And yes, there are main characters left alive. Battered and bruised and despairing of life maybe, but still alive. *grins unrepentantly* Looks like you got your wish. Now that I'm back here, seems I can't leave. *growls* And quit calling me kid. I'm not your sister. 

Fallen Shadows of Light: Thank you!! Someone who questions what Eva really is. I don't think most people realize that she's not human. What she is exactly will be explained later. As for Death, she's meddling with something she never should have touched. And Harry – well, Harry's not half dead, he's actually mostly dead. I try my best to come up with original ideas, or at least modify old ones enough so that they become mine. Thanks.

BladeLiger786: Happy Birthday!! So for your present, this chapter is dedicated to you. *winks* Sorry, I've been trying to post this chapter since last year, but ff.net is being stupid and keeps giving me an error message. Eva/Wraith ship? That would be rather explosive, to say the least. But it would follow my theme/obsession of dualities.


	34. Change of Worlds

Since that last one took so long, here's another one to make up for it. It's a bit short, but only because the next chapter is going to be very long. But this answers the nagging question: Where is Eva?

Disclaimer: Money will be accepted on a donation basis to a Starving College Student Fund. But I am making no money off of this. No copyright infringement is intended. Harry Potter and Co. belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I am not her. You should know all this by now.

Chapter 34

Lucifer smiled widely and stretched, feeling the unfamiliar muscles as they contracted and relaxed in sequence to move as he desired. It had been so long since he had a bodily form that he had forgotten exactly what it was like. Admittedly this body wasn't in perfect shape, nor was it very handsome. All right, so it was downright ugly.

But the magical protection running through it more than made up for these minor discrepancies. Besides, Lucifer thought as he raised his arms above his head and arched his back like a cat, for once he didn't have to rely on charm or looks to get what he wanted. Now he could take it with brute force. 

Somewhere deep inside he felt the tattered remains of the creature known as Voldemort clamoring for attention, flush with anger and betrayal. Apparently he didn't like the alterations the Master had made to their deal. Lucifer ignored him, swatting the presence away like a small bug buzzing his ear.

Licking his lips, he surveyed the decimated clearing, now full of burnt earth and drained bodies of Death Eaters. He found the whole scene delicious, the air sweet with blood and fire and betrayal. That's what you get when you put your trust in the untrustworthy, and expect faithfulness from the original betrayer. 

He chuckled, relishing the harsh sound of glass on glass over rusty metal that rent the air. He could imagine Death's reaction when she realized just how powerful he had become away from her. No longer was he subject to her whims; now he could take on all the Guardians, and make himself Master of all.

All his years of exile, of bitterness and conniving and plotting and sneaking and subjugation, were all finally going to bear fruit. He was tired of sneaking around like a thief in the night, nipping at the heels but never able to strike the final blow. Now he would ride in as a conqueror, for all to see and despair at his coming. All realms would tremble at his name, enslaved or crushed at his will.

Amid these grandiose plans, he felt a little niggle of strange power. Ah yes, one last troublesome mortal to take care of. Lucifer was especially pleased at the havoc his talisman had wrought on the young man – he hadn't been certain on whether its properties would work on mortals. 

But it had performed better than he had planned. Without that talisman setting him on a certain path, this whole situation would have never come about, and Lucifer would still be stuck in that crappy realm the Guardians had exiled him to, watching from afar.

Kicking aside the bodies of a couple of Death Eaters, Lucifer stalked into the forest heading for the distant ruin that was Hogwarts. Time to remove Harry Potter from this world, permanently.

**********************************

Night had fallen, so deep and dark that Harry could barely see his staff in front of him. All day dust and ash had been falling, coating him with a layer of grime and filth that let him blend to near invisibility against the blasted foundations of Hogwarts.

The explosion had torn deep into the dungeons, completely obliterating all inhabited levels and caving in the deeper areas. The result was a cairn of rubble that began nearly 30 meters below ground level, but due to the persistent smoke and darkness Harry couldn't be exactly sure of what was down there.

He was ensconced within a pile of stones that might have once been part of Gryffindor Tower, judging by the few tattered cloth remains that hung like dead leaves. Only an hour before he had finally managed to repair his staff. While slowly using Elemental magic to mesh the broken areas together again, he was reminded of the vows he had taken the first time he built it, pledging his life to remove the Darkness from the Earth.

He certainly meant that now; the ice in his chest was a constant reminder of his bargain with Death. The time was drawing near, he could feel it. While his leg had been healing, he could sense the Darkness gathering in one nexus, focused in on one being. 

When the ritual climaxed, Lucifer completely possessing Voldemort, Harry had felt such pain in his scar that he had never felt before. His brain itself ached from the overload, scrambling his reality in a jumble of misfiring neurons. He wasn't sure whether he had blacked out or not, but it hardly mattered as all of his senses had taken quite a while to come back online to full function.

Even now with his mental shields firmly in place he could still feel the tongues of bitter cold fire ravishing just at the edges of his consciousness. Harry suppressed a sigh, knowing he'd only end up choking on foul air. He was as ready as he would ever be. It was time to finish this once and for all.

Staring into the blackness around him, he briefly considered conjuring some light. This reminded him too much of the cupboard: the dark, the cold, the uncomfortable surroundings, the pain and loneliness and doubt. Shivering, he tried to push the memories back, and his fingers closed around the staff, itching to create a fire to drive it away, at least temporarily.

He stopped himself just in time; a light would only draw unwanted attention at this point, and besides, he needed to save his energy for a more important task. Speaking of energy, his stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since . . . when? Dinner the night before? It seemed a lifetime ago.

Shifting against the stone, trying to get comfortable, Harry recalled the butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, Zonko's enthusiastic energy and sharp wit, Madame Rosmerta stirring the fire to bathe them in warmth. From there his mind wandered back to memories of the Gryffindor Common Room, the blazing fire the house elves kept going during the coldest months and at night, sitting doing homework with Ron and Hermione by its light.

Closing his eyes, he let himself remember all the good times at Hogwarts, and his adventures with his friends. Certain things stuck out in his memory, little snapshots of his life that seemed more real than his current surroundings.

Ron's boisterous laugh, full and hearty and alive, as essential to him and his person as his hair, as he told stories of his family life. 

Hermione scribbling furiously with a quill in her tiny handwriting, studying everything she could for the simple pleasure of learning.

Ginny's smiling face looking angelically innocent when she had a mischievous streak wider than Fred and George and a wickedly fast hex.

The infamous duo proudly showing their wares to unsuspecting students while exchanging grins in secret twin communication, linked at some intrinsic level.

Neville in first year, looking scared but determined to do what was right, and later rewarded for it in front of the whole school.

Remus smiling at him proudly after the Ravenclaw Quidditch match in third year, when he first cast his Patronus successfully. 

Sirius grinning wildly after the ride on the Black Shadow, looking young and healthy and alive like the Marauder used to be.

Dumbledore in his office after the Chamber of Secrets, eyes twinkling with pride and relief.

Eva . . . 

Eva smiling with fierce pride during his training; joking with him and laughing at his blushes; clinging to him and yelling with joy as they first tested out his motorcycle; scolding him fondly after the France incident, hands soothing his wounds; that dream of her holding him close to share body heat on the roof, lips soft and so tempting . . .

The mere thought of her filled him with warmth, even as he wondered gloomily where she was. He hadn't seen her since August, not counting the half-remembered dream, and with their failed mental connection he missed her so much it ached. The sheer depth of his loneliness surprised him.

He had missed Ron and Hermione while he was training, and he missed Sirius and Ginny and Dumbledore and Fred and George every day. But this feeling was different, a sort of longing, a yearning for her presence in his life. It confused him, yet on some level he understood perfectly.

Weird that he should think of her now, when he was so close to death.

Closer than he thought, he suddenly realized as he snapped out of his reverie, eyes popping open to strain against the darkness. Lucifer was close, very close if the burning in his body and mind was any indication. It was time.

Harry clambered to his feet and left his stone shelter, still limping slightly. Through the black air he caught a faint hint of light, a reddish glow like coals under a log, and approached with caution. Ash was falling thick as snow, and he could feel it settling in his hair, on his skin and clothes, catching in his nose and mouth to form bitter mud on his tongue.

With shocking abruptness a figure materialized through the haze, the eerie red glow lighting them both, coming from a set of blazing crimson snake eyes. Harry bit back an involuntary curse at the sight of his nemesis. Voldemort was paler than ever, skin albino white yet contradictorily in his senses appearing dark as space. Harry's brain ached trying to resolve the sight before him with the Darkness he felt.

There were other subtle changes about him, taken in peripherally, but overall the sight confirmed that this was Voldemort no longer. Harry stood face to face with the Prince of Darkness, Lucifer himself.

The creature smiled, a jumbled mix of rotting teeth and gleaming fangs gnashing together with the movement, and in the faint glow they shone blood red. Harry's stomach rolled. Forget the expected witty banter and traditional good vs. evil taunts. Harry only had one chance to do this.

He whipped his staff out and around, planting it firmly in the scorched earth with one sharp thrust. Summoning all his power and calling the Elements to him, he fed it into the ice in his chest, then directed the whole combination down through the staff. 

Wind kicked up around them, gusting and swirling around in the ash and dust, scouring them both raw. Thunder rumbled overhead as lightning flashed, and from somewhere came the threatening sound of rushing water. The earth trembled at their feet, then with a great cracking and tearing a chasm opened behind the creature. 

The rocky sides pulsed with a fiery glow from deep within and below, and muted screams echoed and rang. Dimly Harry saw some demon corpses falling from the edges, tumbling down and bouncing with wet thuds from the rocks. The air shimmered with barely contained magic, as the chasm did not lead down into the earth, but across time and space to another realm entirely.

Death's Playground.

Those inhuman crimson eyes spun back to meet Harry's piercing emerald ones, and for an instant time froze with dawning understanding. 

Then Harry dove forward. Legs propelling him into his enemy shoulder first, his arms wrapped around him, and their momentum carried them back, back, right to the edge before launching into the abyss.

As he tumbled over the edge, clawed hands tearing at his back and head frantically, Harry heard one last shout from a beloved voice, the one person he wished to see most desperately. 

Eva screamed out in despair, "HARRY!!! NOOO!!!"

As soon as they were through, the chasm slammed shut with a thunderous roar, the earth rippling in reaction to the forces unleashed and tearing up the ground even further. The ruins of Hogwarts collapsed further, stones pounded down into gravel and dust. Trees toppled and crumbled, their impact sending up more clouds of dust and ash into the polluted sky. 

Eventually it calmed, the silence common to a graveyard perpetuated by a muffler of black snow covering the land.

**********************************

Silence. 

Considering they were stuck in a cave with so many people, the complete lack of sound was unnerving.

The survivors huddled together in clumps around faint points of wandlight, searching for something to give them hope, something to brighten the darkness suffocating them. But there was nothing that could escape the truth of the bodies lying at the back of the cave. Especially the one with messy black hair.

The remaining Weasleys sat across from Ron's body, their strength in numbers severely diminished. Remus was curled up in a corner, lost in an ocean of despair and pain from his actions during the battle and the loss of his last connection to the Marauders. 

It didn't help that Hermione sat between the bodies of Ron and Harry, rocking herself in silence. After the inhuman scream she had let out when Snape had brought Harry back, she hadn't made a noise.

In the oppressive atmosphere, most couldn't help but feel that this was a mourning for all of them. They knew that they had very little chance of surviving the night, and they could do nothing to stop it. The bodies seemed to whisper in the dark, "As we are, you soon shall be." 

Safely ensconced in the shadows, Snape breathed out an inaudible sigh. He didn't want to remain here; it was unproductive, and an idiot's folly.

But at the same time, there was nowhere to go. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and when the fight and inevitable slaughter came, this was as good a place as any. He wasn't ready to resign himself to death, even though most the others seemed to already have done so. But he didn't see any other option. 

He looked at the corpse of Harry Potter and his customary sneer curled his lips. He should have known from the beginning that his grudging respect was misplaced. The stupid boy had to go and get himself killed in a fight he had provoked, and now damned them all. He decided there weren't enough languages to curse him with adequately.

Snape was looking right at the body when, impossibly, it abruptly dissolved into nothingness.

He started, eyes trying to discern what trick the boy was pulling now, but the only indication of anything different was Hermione, who stopped rocking herself and simply stared with empty eyes at the now bare stone. Snape narrowed his eyes, an uncomfortable feeling prickling at his neck that had nothing to do with the gathering darkness outside. 

Careful not to make any sudden movements, he detached himself from the shadows and stalked over to the line of bodies. He had just knelt down next to Hermione when a groan caught his attention, and he jerked his head around to track the source. 

To his utter astonishment, the Weasley boy was stirring, head lolling to one side as he coughed and sucked in some deep breaths, the bruise discoloration fading quickly to healthy skin tone. That was impossible. Simply impossible. 

"What the hell?" Snape muttered, but was suddenly shoved aside as Molly Weasley dashed to her son's side, desperate hope shining through her tears as she enveloped him in her arms.

Everyone watched, dumbfounded, as Ron weakly pushed against his mother's embrace, mumbling, "Gerroff Mum, you're smothering me." As Molly released him, sobbing with joy, he reached over to Hermione, who was staring at him in a daze. "Hermione?" he called softly, and again when she didn't respond. Finally she shook her head in confusion and looked down at the empty stone floor next to her. 

When she looked up again, she rubbed her eyes, looked again, and then with a small smile leaned into Ron's arms. "Ron?" she asked with a little girl's voice. He cradled her and nodded, pressing a light kiss to her hair. She sighed and relaxed, murmuring, "I had such a bad dream." 

Soon they wasn't the only ones to watch, as the other dead bodies also blinked and coughed and stretched and sat up. The cave echoed with voices, some confused and questioning, others nearly incoherent with joy. Snape backed away slowly, searching for some sanity in this impossibility. 

The heads of Weasley red seemed to have multiplied, but as they were huddled in a tight circle he couldn't actually tell. A glimpse of white hair drew his eyes, but he quickly turned away, trying to convince himself that Dumbledore couldn't be standing there talking with McGonagall. 

That was impossible. Simply impossible.

It looked as if there were a lot more people in here than there was only two minutes ago. Still backing away, heading back to the shadows that would give him some perspective on this slide into cloud cuckoo land, Snape bumped into someone behind him. That person barked out, "Hey, watch where you're going." 

Snape's eyes widened and he spun. That voice, that utterly and horribly familiar voice, was impossible. Simply impossible. But when he had completed his 180 spin of reality, he found himself face to face with a grinning Sirius Black.

The dead man's eyes twinkled with mischief, and he smiled broadly displaying all his teeth like the Cheshire Cat (which was kind of odd, considering he was a canine Animagus). Snape stood there, staring stupidly with jaw hanging open. 

He had to be hallucinating. Maybe he was wounded worse than he thought, and the pain was playing tricks on his mind. No, he was dead. That was it, Snape had died and been consigned to his own personal hell. For all this was simply too impossible to be real. 

Sirius leaned in closer, still with that impossibly insane smile, and said, "Boo."

That was too much. 

Snape's eyes rolled back in his head as he keeled over backwards in a dead faint. Right before he gave into the comforting darkness, he heard another even more impossible voice say laughing, "Congratulations Padfoot. You finally managed to kill him."

********************************

Screaming . . .

Falling . . .

Struggling . . .

Choking . . .

Burning . . .

Blinding . . .

Freezing . . .

Plummeting . . .

Spinning . . .

Melting . . .

Screaming . . .

Grappling . . .

Burning . . .

Falling . . .

Falling . . .

A violent jerk suddenly redirected his falling trajectory, and in the distance Lucifer's shrieking faded quickly as a wisp of cloud. A nauseating spin/twirl/loop combo, and Harry landed hard on his back on hard-packed ground cushioned with feathery grass.

Shaking with reaction, he managed to pry his eyes open only to watch the sky shift in a kaleidoscope of colors he was certain were not natural part of the atmosphere. Rubbing his eyes and tentatively shaking his head, the sky overhead settled back to its normal blue/white/gold. 

Harry sighed and relaxed back into the grass. It was done, and he had made it back over the rainbow.

Just as before, he heard approaching footsteps echoing under his head, and sat up quickly. This time, it was not the Weasley twins. In fact, nobody was in sight that had been there before. The plain was completely empty of mortals. Instead Lady Death was walking towards him, her face more open than he had ever seen . . . was that a smile?

Reaching him, she held out a hand and helped him to his feet, and this close to her he could tell something about her was . . . off. It wasn't just the smile. He movements, usually so calm and controlled, were now slightly quickened and jerky, her hands nearly trembling. She was . . . excited?

Harry narrowed his eyes at her unseen, suspecting that she was hiding something. She apparently didn't notice, or chose not to, when he cautiously took a step back. Death looked him over with an appraising air, then clapped both her hands on his shoulders. 

"Well done young phoenix. You have succeeded, and our deal is finalized. Come now." She spun on her heel and walked briskly back towards her city, and after a moment Harry followed. He was slightly disoriented by the sudden turn of events, and the realization of the permanence of his actions. "Um . . ." he suddenly felt incredibly awkward, but he had to ask, "um . . . where are the others? My family and friends?"

Death waved her hand negligently. "They are where they are supposed to be." Harry frowned and increased his pace until he was striding beside her. "What does that mean? Where are they?" 

"I told you, where they are supposed to be." He sucked in a breath as realization slapped him upside the head. "I thought you said you couldn't do that." Death only replied, "In order for our deal to be consummated, symmetry must be kept." Seeing he was about to pry further for explanation, Death sighed.

"I did not have the power to send you back by myself. As I gave you a portion of me, I took in return a portion of you. In doing so, I had to fulfill the objective the power was directed toward set by the intention under which it was taken. I sent you back, and I sent back all those who did not belong."

Harry nearly tripped over his own feet in his shock. "You mean . . . Ron, Sirius, Ginny . . . all of them . . . they're alive?" he choked out in a half-whisper. Death chuckled with a familiar lilt, despite the fact that he had never heard her laugh before. 

"They are where they are supposed to be. Now hurry." She sped up, leading him deep into the city as they wound through the alleys between imposing stone structures. Harry stared intently at the silver hair streaming in her wake, as if trying to pierce through it to the brain and thoughts and motivations beneath. 

So intently in fact, that he wasn't paying attention to their journey, and when Death stopped abruptly he plowed right into her, nearly sending them both sprawling. Spitting out a bit of silver hair, he backed off sheepishly to see Fate glaring at him from over Death's shoulder.

He had never seen her before, but knew that it could only be Lady Luck herself, as the dice in her hand were quite conspicuous rolling and clacking against each other. Fate turned her blackish-red eyes from him to Death and bit out, "What have you done?"

Death actually rolled her eyes. "Do not start that again," she warned with a trace of irritation. "I am not in the mood to deal with you right now." She took a step forward, but Fate planted herself in their way and glowered, which Death matched equally. "Fine. State your business and leave."

Fate's eyes were shifting towards totally red, reminding Harry of Voldemort, and eventually she said in a tight voice, "We have called the Council together. You will stand before them and explain your actions leading to this . . . this . . ." Apparently the proper descriptor failed her, so she gestured furiously at Harry to indicate precisely what she was talking about.

Harry felt a flush of anger burn his cheeks and neck, but now Fate was ignoring him as she addressed Death. "I doubt you understand the severity of your . . . deviations." Death sniffed. "I know the consequences. I believe it is you who do not understand exactly what I have done." 

Fate's lip twitched. "One of the Shamak'la will fetch you when we're ready." She shot a malevolent glare at Harry as she added with cold bitterness, "In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your new toy. After all, you worked so hard to get him." She took a couple steps back. "Hope he was worth it." With an inhaled pop, she was gone.

Death blew out a quick breath, then reached back to grab Harry's hand and grip it rather possessively. She led him to a solid black door, which vanished upon her approach, revealing an opulent room straight out of the finest hotel in the world. Now completely off-balance by the sudden environmental change, Harry stopped dead in his tracks, his hand slipping from Death's hold.

She gestured him towards the sofa, and he tottered over on numb legs to sink into the plush cushions. Death remained standing in front of him, and they remained silent for a long time, both lost in thought. Finally Harry demanded, "What's going on? And none of your cryptic doubletalk bullshit." 

Death nodded once. "Very well. The Council is being assembled for the first time in many star ages. The other Guardians want me to be accountable for my recent actions pertaining to you, and they want to know why I have violated my code. You will stand with me before them."

Harry started to protest, but Death held up a hand to forestall him. "You cannot understand just now. I assure you things will become clear at my trial." "Trial?" He didn't like the sound of that, but she nodded with calm acceptance. 

Any further dialogue was cut off by the arrival of a humanoid being of shimmering silver, who announced in a deep slow voice like thunder, "Death, your presence is required before the Council." Death nodded to the Shamak'la, and as Harry got to his feet the being disappeared. 

Death waved her hand, and the air shimmered and sparkled before a hole appeared and widened to the size of a double doorway. It stretched and rippled as the hole became a tunnel, spilling honey-colored light at their feet. 

Grabbing Harry yet again, Death marched through with her head held high, dragging the unfortunate mortal along with her to the City of the Guardians.

*******************************

Eva screamed, an outpouring of hate and anger and grief and despair all made vocal as she completely trashed the kitchen. 

Plates went flying to shatter on walls and floor, glasses erupted in showers of broken glass, and cutlery scattered everywhere, the knives sticking into the walls. Next went the doors of the cupboards, wood crumbling to splinters on impact. Countertops cracked, and with a shriek the refrigerator was thrown into the dining room, food and all, freezer spilling out ice cubes everywhere.

The food was the last victim to her wrath, packages torn and contents strewn about in a great mess that squished and crackled and crushed and slid under her feet. The last glass bottle tottered on the edge, then slowly fell to shatter in a spray of liquid. After that, the house was silent except for her ragged breaths.

Completely spent, Eva made her way out into the living room where she collapsed on the sofa, face buried in her hands and trying not to cry. 

She had lost him. Forever.

Why had she come back here, knowing that the whole place held nothing but memories of him? Memories that made her feel things she knew she shouldn't, but couldn't help any more than she could help breathing. Her heart ached, making each indrawn breath hurt.

It was all Fate's fault, the meddling bitch. If only she could have gotten here faster. When Eva had learned what had happened and was going to happen, she had tried to go to Harry, to help him, to stop him. 

But Fate had blocked her, smiling viciously with piercing blue eyes as Eva railed at her and fought the barrier. It wasn't her place to interfere, she had been informed in a smug tone. 

Eventually Eva broke through the obstacle and appeared as fast as she could to Harry's side. But it was too late. She got there in time to see him fall, the magic swirling around him and snatching him far away. Her screams hadn't changed anything, for he was still lost to her. 

Unable to stay on the battleground, she had come here, to Harry's house.

Eva gasped for breath, fighting against the despair and loneliness surrounding her. Harry was gone, she wasn't allowed to interact with any more mortals, the Guardians didn't like her, and no other realms needed her. Never in her life had she been like this, not even in her former position a lifetime ago, before . . .

Distantly she felt the call of the Guardians, a faint but insistent tug that no longer had anything to do with her, and sat up with a start. They were calling the Council together. They were to judge one of their own, something that hadn't happened since she herself was a Guardian.

That could only mean one thing.

Eva stood, wiping away the few tears that had snuck out and streaked her face. She may not be wanted, but she had to go. She had to see and hear for herself, to find out what could possibly happen now. Maybe she would even get to plead her own case before them, now that circumstances had changed.

With a deep breath, Eva crossed the barriers between realms and appeared in the ancient City of the Guardians, feeling the call thrumming through her like the magic that permeated the air. Sneaking around through the shadows, she made her way to the Council Chamber, a round building made of pure transparent gold. 

Most of the Guardians were already there, with their personal Shamak'la gathered around their masters and the others grouped around the walls, watching and murmuring. Eva kept to the shadows behind the last line of Shamak'la, glancing around carefully, taking stock of the situation and noting where everyone was. 

Nature already sat in her chair, leaning over to speak quietly to Time, who nodded slightly and muttered something back. Love walked in, this time in the image of a matronly grandmother with white hair, and Eva shrank back a bit more to avoid her. Of all the Guardians, Love was her best ally and worst enemy. 

Water came through the doors and announced in a deep voice, "Death is coming." All the Guardians took their seats in the semicircle, facing towards the doors where the accused would emerge. Eva eyed the single empty seat at the far left end, right next to Chaos. 

The specific Shamak'la settled on the floor in front of their Guardians, while the unspecific settled in ranks on the floor, leaving an aisle from the door to the chairs and a space up front for the accused to stand. All was still, eyes locked on the huge double doors.

When at last they finally opened, Eva had to stifle a gasp. Death strode in, proud and haughty and unafraid, boots clicking on the marble floor. Behind her walked Harry, who in contrast to Death's formal appearance, was still dirty and sweaty from his battles, clothes torn and ragged. He seemed so small and childlike now in this place, hiding in Death's shadow, eyes darting about in mixed wonder and suspicion.

Death stopped before the Council of Guardians, meeting their eyes defiantly with her silver gaze, and for a minute there was silence. Then Nature stood, her hair rippling as water on a lake, and announced in her voice of wind, "Death, you have been summoned before this Council to call into account your actions pertaining to the mortal realm of Sei'fiah, known generally in the mortal tongue as Earth."

Time rose next, his body young but his eyes and wisdom old. In a slow inexorable voice he said, "You will explain why you have purposely violated the Code of the Guardians, acting against the mandate set before you ere this universe was created."

Destiny stood, midnight hair brushing back over her shoulders as silk ribbons. "Finally, you must justify your actions pertaining to this mortal," she gestured towards Harry, "and why you went directly against the order decreed by both myself and my sister Fate."

The three sat back down, regarding Death solemnly while the Shamak'la watched attentively. Eva settled herself comfortably, allowing a small smile to grace her lips. This looked to be quite intriguing, not matter what happened. 

Death arched an eyebrow, a slow smirk creeping across her lips. "Let the Inquisition begin."


	35. The Trial

A/N: All right, if you thought you were confused before, that is nothing compared to what this chapter may do to you. Hell, I'm writing it and sometimes I get confused. That's why it took me a bit to finish this.  I suggest you read through this a few times if you're having troubles, as most things are explained in here. And the more you're confused, the happier it makes me. I love messing with people's heads. If the Catholics are right, I'm going to spend an extra week in Purgatory for enjoying this too much. *grins unrepentantly*

Random inquiry: I'm thinking about going back and writing the back story of the universe; how it was created, what the Guardians are, and how everything got started including the conflict that I mention in this chapter. It would be a piece of original fiction that I might pursue getting published. Would any of you be interested in reading that? And if it does get published, maybe buying a copy? Let me know.

Thanks to Raven Eades, who not only is my wonderfully awesome beta for the past couple chapters, but also is an incredible writer herself who has completed her first novel. I sincerely acknowledge her talent by temporarily borrowing part of her creation for my own pleasure. ******winks** 

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. are property of JK Rowling and whoever she's leased them out to. No copyright infringement is intended, for they say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Not making any money period, not from this story or anything else I'm doing, so suing me is completely pointless. However, I do own the Guardians, the Shamak'la, Eva and this alternate universe I've created. Do not use them without my permission.

Chapter 35

Harry looked around the golden chamber of the Council of the Guardians, trying to take it all in. 

Six Guardians sat in chairs that resembled a cross between a judge's stand and an emperor's throne, with one left empty at the far end. That one had to be for Death, who stood beside him proudly, almost regally, emanating waves of power around her that he had never felt before.

On the floor in front of him sat about 15 or so beings, some humanoid, others of a structure so strange they defied classification as Harry knew it. They were grouped in some sort of pattern, as if assigned to one of the Guardians. Harry saw the silver one who had summoned them by the first lady's chair, next to a solid-looking creature of rock and soil.

On either side and behind him sat more of these beings, the ones Fate had called Shamak'la. These must be the workers who carried out the Guardians' orders. He let his eyes wander over them, skipping past some that made his brain hurt just to look at them, then he started. 

He thought he caught a glimpse of a familiar face lurking towards the back. He blinked and looked again. She was gone. 

Then the first lady who spoke, the one with the clothing woven of plants, interrupted his inner musing. "Lady Death, what do you have to say for yourself?" 

Death said quite calmly, "I have only done what was needed to be done. The Prophecy has been fulfilled, wrongs made right, and power has re-shifted. I no longer take orders from another."

The lady with the book and the long black hair sighed. "That is not sufficient. Why have you done this?"

Death looked at her with a hard glint in her eyes. "I would not have had to, Destiny, if you and your sister had stuck to your jobs." 

Fate shifted in her seat, brown hair gaining tints of Weasley orange in irritation. "Death, you violated your Code long before we did anything. Why?"

Death looked her right in the eye. "Because I was ordered to."

The boy with wildly messy brown curls leaned forward, intrigued. "By whom?"

Death gazed around at all of them, meeting their eyes with her own silver ones to emphasize her words. "It was a combination of you and circumstances, but eventually came down to him." She gestured at Harry.

Immediately the Guardians started muttering amongst themselves, and Harry recoiled in shock. "What?!" he blurted out. "What the hell are you talking about? You've been ordering _me_ around!" 

The Guardian who looked so much like a sixteen year old boy chuckled. "And the plot thickens. You seem to be at the heart of everything."

Harry glared at him, anger and weary confusion overriding his common sense that was screaming at him to shut up. "Who are you? Who are all of you? And what exactly is going on here?"

The Guardians all looked at him, then the boy stood up. "Very well. You deserve a formal introduction. I am Chaos, master of random destruction, mayhem and general confusion." 

The old woman with bright golden eyes stood next to him. "I am Love, purveyor and controller of the greatest of human conditions." She gestured towards the beings at her feet. "These are my Shamak'la: Eros, Agape, Ameritus, and Narcissus." The four beings nodded to Harry as they were introduced. 

Next the plant lady, who reminded him a bit of Professor Sprout, stood. "I am Nature, mother and guardians of all living things and the elements. These are my Shamak'la: Flora, Fauna, Fire, Wind, Earth, and Water." The first two nodded respectfully at him, but the four Elements bowed low to him in homage. 

Nature smiled at Harry. "They pay honor to one who has proven himself by pledging his life for their mistress. You control part of them, which they gladly submit to." Harry nodded in understanding, eyeing the beings as the vows of his staff once again echoed in his mind. He hadn't quite realized the full ramifications of that until now.

The young man who reminded him so much of Dumbledore rose. "I am Time, keeper of secrets of the everlasting and controller of eternity. These are my Shamak'la: Past, Present, Future, and the little ones are Chronos and Kairos." They nodded, but the two smaller ones, children really, smiled and waved, eliciting a small smile from Harry.

Destiny stood. "I am Destiny, mistress of the realms, scribe and recorder of Time and writer of the books of Life." 

Fate stood last. "I am Fate, sister of Destiny, the Lady Luck and master of chance."

Death smiled slightly. "I am Death, keeper of souls and the great equalizer. These are my Shamak'la: War, Sickness and Age." Three rather nasty looking beings gave him a half-bow from the edge of the group, as close to their mistress as possible.

Harry looked at all of them staring at him. "Er . . . hello?"

Nature smiled a bit with motherly amusement. "And you are?" she prompted, and Harry flushed slightly.

"Oh! Sorry. I'm . . . I'm Harry Potter." 

Destiny nodded in recognition. "Phoenix Lord, War Mage, Boy Who Lived and Child of Light. We have watched you for a long time, young phoenix."

Harry rolled his eyes at the titles, hating them. "I'm just Harry, thank you. And what does that mean anyway, Child of Light?"

Destiny raised her eyebrows. "It is a common honorific given to those whose lives are bound by prophecy. You represent a nexus of possibilities and hope to those around you. Your life dictates several possible lines of destiny and is a bright spot in my books." 

Fate snorted. "Not this one."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "So basically you mean I'm your pawn. A plot device to drive the story forward."

Destiny hesitated. "Well, I would not put it that way."

Harry frowned, but Fate grinned widely at him. "Don't worry so much, young phoenix. For a while now, no one has been able to control you. You messed up Destiny's plan so much more than I or Chaos ever could. Chaos has been especially proud of you." 

Chaos grinned. "Yep, you and those Weasley twins. The Marauders were also a lot of fun to watch, but they were a bit more deliberate about their pranks."

Destiny leaned forward a bit so she could see the boy and frown at him. "Your encouragement doesn't help. Thanks to this mortal, my books are completely useless." Now she turned that frown on Harry, who scowled back.

"Oh, so you're mad at me for exercising free will instead of going along with your predestination. If you had done your job, _Destiny_, you would have foreseen this."

Love interrupted before any further arguments could erupt. "Let us get back on track. Death, why did you take it to yourself to begin taking mortals before their prescribed time?"

Death shook her head. "That was not my idea. I was bound to do so by orders."

Time frowned. "I must admit that I am perplexed. How did a mortal, by your own admission, gain control over a Guardian to the extent of violating the Code? Especially as he seems to be unaware of doing so."

Death glanced first at Fate, then at Love. "Who was it who began the whole prophecy fulfillment 20 mortal years ago?" 

Love blushed delicately, then her features shifted and changed to that of James Potter, including the messy hair and glasses. Harry started a bit in shock and stared wide eyed at the teenage version of his father. They were right – he did look a lot like his dad. 

Love said, "James loved Lily, and she returned his feelings although she was reluctant to admit it. From the beginning they were soulmates. Their love strengthened each other and those around them, especially in such dark times. Fate just had to give them a push."

Fate sighed a bit. "I checked Destiny's books before I did anything. It pushed up the possibility of the prophecy a bit, but not outside of limits and the outcome should have remained the same."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean, pushed up the possibility? Are you saying it wasn't supposed to be me in the first place?"

Destiny shook her head. "No, young phoenix. It actually hadn't been decided yet. I only write so far ahead in my books, and as I said, a Child of Light is a nexus of possibility. From the point of your birth the line splits into several probable paths to take, waiting for one event to show the right path. 

"I knew that one was to be born, but at any given time there are at least five Children in existence. The previous one had set off a chain of possibilities, and only in two of those did you as the next Child exist. Fate gave a push, James married Lily, and the possibility of your existence became a reality." 

She shot a glance at Time, who was smiling triumphantly at her. "I guess Time had it right. If the Prophecy had waited any longer, it could have turned out much worse for all worlds."

Incredulous, Harry exclaimed, "Worse?! How could things have been worse?!"

Fate arched her eyebrow and smirked at him. "Your realm could have self-destructed and ceased to exist."

"Oh," Harry said quietly, a bit abashed. "Yeah, that would have been worse." He looked up at Death with a frown. "So why did you take my parents early?"

Death sighed. "With your birth, possibilities shifted. Your parents were questionable, but still destined to live a long time. But certain circumstances . . . changed things. Peter Pettigrew was not supposed to turn traitor, and Tom Riddle was not supposed to gain the knowledge of the beginning rituals of immortality. Those are forbidden, as they shift the balance of power out of my hands. In face, that type of knowledge is supposed to be mine alone."

Nature leaned forward, eyes wide. "You think Lucifer took them when he left?"

Death nodded a bit sadly. "Yes. I did not know, since he held them for so long without using them. He took that power out of my hands and gave Riddle a measure of control over me. I could not take him, banned by my own power."

She glanced sideways at Harry. "He was slated to die years ago. He was not supposed to become Voldemort or kill your parents, but he did anyway. I had to take them. But your life was protected by prophecy, which is why you survived. His power was diminished with defeat and partially given to you, which included most of his physical immortality. Between the two, you gained greater control over me." 

Harry rubbed his forehead. "Wait. If a prophecy shields a life, then why hasn't anybody else controlled you before?"

"Well, nobody's ever really directly challenged Destiny's plan before. Prophecy usually determines what people do in life. Rarely does it determine the time of death for the Child of Light, and even then that fits into my Code, for they fulfill their purpose beforehand."

Harry sighed heavily. "What makes me so different?" 

Time rapped his fingers on the arms of his chair as he regarded the young man. "You are part of a conspiracy that has existed for millennia, one that stretches across the realms of time and space to when we were first created."

Destiny nodded and tapped her book. "The Prophecy of the Talismans." 

At his confused look, she elaborated, "Most prophecies are made by those mortals who, by Fate or ability, are granted small glimpses into my books. They can speak of times, events, peoples or places, but rarely do they determine outcomes of actions. But this one has existed since before your race and realm were even thought into existence."

Fate shifted in her seat, absently rolling her dice along her fingers. "Never mind that now. Death, you say that you had no control when you violated your Code, that others dictated your actions. Yet what about him?" She gestured at Harry. "Even if he is the one controlling you, he should not be here."

"In fact," Destiny piped up, "he does not have his time marked. You should not have been able to touch him."

Nature frowned. "And you certainly should not have been able to send the others back. Even though they were removed early, to resurrect them is . . . unnatural. It violated not only your Code and your limits, but mine as well."

Harry and Death looked at each other, and Harry said quietly, "You weren't supposed to have any contact with me, were you? Directing me to the talisman, letting me search the shadow archives, showing me that dream about Snape, telling me about my parents – you were violating orders even then, weren't you?"

All the Guardians sucked in sharp breaths and Harry could see they all were shocked. "You . . . you spoke with him before?" Nature murmured. "Took him to the shadow archives? How . . . why?"

Fate narrowed her eyes, calculating. "They only way you could have done that was to . . ."

Death interrupted, "Yes, I did. I had to." 

Chaos chuckled dryly and settled back in his seat. "Well, that explains a lot then. Although I can't imagine that you of all of us would be so stupid. Did He drop you on your head when you were created?"

Fate snorted. "You should talk. Whose idea was it again to let them discover explosives? Or television? Or alcohol for that matter? Nothing like Jello shots at a frat party for some good old fashioned carousing."

"Hey! Don't knock the fireworks! And alcohol was a perfectly good idea and amusing at that. The execution may have been a bit off, but . . ."

Harry furrowed his brow, confused, as he turned from their little by-play to Death. "What did you do?

Death refused to look at him, so Destiny quieted her sister and leaned forward, eyes hard. "Tell him, Death. Tell him what you did to him."

Death scowled at her, but said without looking in his direction, "That summer, every night when you fell asleep, I killed you."

Harry simply stood there, blinking in shock and unable to do anything else. "What?!" he finally managed to choke out. 

Death nodded grimly. "Those were no dreams. I took you every night, but every night you fought back to life, eluding my grip. I could not control you, not the way my Code said."

Chaos smirked. "I think you've died once for each time Trelawney said you would over the years. You should be a super-concentrated ghost or something."

"You ever heard that old saying, 'Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger'?" Fate leaned on one arm casually, gray-green eyes fixed intently on Harry. "For you that was literally true. Every time she took you, you took a little power from her in order to live again, but ended up controlling her through that power."

Death didn't acknowledge that statement, but Harry could tell that it was the truth by the slight slump in her shoulders. "When I found that Lucifer was searching for the talismans, I had to take action. I could not allow him to gain control of them, so I did what I could to stop him – set you on the path to them."

Destiny glared at her furiously. "That is a direct interference with my duties. You were out of line," she said with icy menace. 

Death straightened and met her glare for glare. "You were not going to do anything about it. I saw your books. Your plans called for him to find the talismans years from now. You did not even see that Lucifer already had his servants searching for them in earnest."

Fate sputtered, "He shouldn't have been able to find them at all! We forbid him from direct interference in that realm to keep him away from them!"

Death snorted softly. "Like that could stop him. He finds ways around rules; you know that." She turned back to Harry. "I tried to use you to find and destroy the important one, the dagger. If you had destroyed it as I told you to, none of this would have happened."

Harry rolled his eyes at her. "We've been over this. You approved of my plan when I told you I was keeping it." 

Time stared at Death intently with his piercing blue eyes. "You had to know what it was going to do to him." Death glared at him, but he still asked, "Why did you do it?"

Once again in her matronly form, Love had been keeping silent for a long time, preferring to watch Death, but now she spoke. "You have a strange attachment to this mortal."

Death froze, then slowly turned her silver gaze to Love. "What do you mean?" she asked in a carefully composed voice, but Love simply arched an eyebrow at her.

"I did not think that my powers could affect another Guardian, even one in your condition. This is unexpected."

Death shook her head, silver strands whipping about her face. "No. You are wrong. You cannot influence me. Your powers have no control here, not over me." 

Love shrugged lightly. "Say what you wish, but I recognize my own signature."

Harry looked between the two of them, steadily growing more confused even as the words made him uneasy. "What's going on?"

Chaos grinned mischievously at him. "Seems Lady Death's got the hots for you."

"**_WHAT?!_**" Harry shouted, taking an involuntary step back. "That . . . . that's impossible!!"

Fate frowned in his direction, eyes raking him up and down as if evaluating him. "Yet another mandate of mine she flouted," she groused, and Love turned a golden eyed gaze on her.

"Serves you right. I don't like being banned from people just for your peace of mind."

"My peace of mind?" Fate scoffed. "That's Destiny's deal, not mine. And besides, look how much trouble you've caused.. I didn't want anything to screw up the plan, but somehow your interference strikes again!"

Nature shook her head. "Do not blame Love. It is in their nature to love, and very unnatural for one to never truly know some form of it. There are many who wished to love him, but it was your decree, Fate, that drove him to ignore them and deliberately weaken himself."

Fate hissed, "Love makes the strongest men weak, a crack in an otherwise flawless armor. Our warrior could have no weaknesses."

Time curled his lip. "He is mortal and imperfect, and therefore has weaknesses. Love is a strength as well as a weakness. A mother's love saved her child, a friend's love could have guided and supported him, and a woman's love would have held him back from the abyss."

Fate exhaled heavily, holding up her hands as if to ward off the attack. "Am I now the one on trial? I followed my mandate set in the Code of the Guardians. Death broke and bent them for her own purposes and power until they came around and stabbed us all in the back!"

Chaos snickered. "Getting a little defensive there Fate. One might think you were hiding something."

Fate's lip twitched as she retorted, "The only thing I'm hiding is my irritation with you, as well as a baseball bat to hopefully knock some sense into Death unless she quits with the finger-pointing."

Chaos' eyes lit up as he ran his gaze appreciatively over her tight clothing. "You're hiding a bat in there? I'd like to see that."

Eros giggled as Fate's eyes bulged out and flashed pink then red as well as her cheeks. Harry looked down at Fire and asked softly, "Are they always like this?" Fire nodded with what might have been a sly smile.

Destiny bit her lower lip with amusement at her sister, then turned back to Death. "Lady Death, you have not given an adequate justification of your actions, nor shown understanding of the consequences. Why did you take it upon yourself to intervene and circumvent our jobs instead of warning us and letting us take action as determined by our mandates? We are all supposed to work together here."

Death shook her head. "When one law is broken, sometimes it takes another broken to fix it again."

Nature smiled. "Fight fire with fire?"

Time let out an undignified snort that made him seem more like Chaos for a moment. "You call your solution fixing it? Your fire burned more destructively than the original embers."

"Death, I know you hate to lose control, same as I," Destiny said in a soothing tone. "The restrictions must have chafed. But your actions did not let you regain control or your own power. Instead you stole it from us."

Death bristled a bit, and a ripple of power washed over them all. "Do not try and play friend and counselor to me, Destiny. You cannot comprehend what it is like, what I have suffered through. If you had your way, I would have remained in that state forever, a second-rate Guardian restricted from her own power and Code. 

"You drove me to do what I could to end this however I could. And if that meant inconveniencing you, so be it!"

The last shouted words echoed around the chamber, and Harry stared at Death in amazement and a touch of fear. Even the Guardians seemed taken aback at her outburst. Death was usually so composed and ice cold, emotionless as possible and stoic. 

But now, with her hair a bit mussed, her eyes flashing dangerously and her elegant hands clenched in fists, she resembled nothing so much as Molly Weasley in full saber-toothed tiger mode. 

Whirling on her heel, Death stalked out of the chamber, steps echoing like staccato gunshots. The doors clanged shut behind her, and silence descended over the assembly. 

Finally Chaos shook his head and remarked, "Well, that was unexpected."

Harry turned, only then realizing that he was standing alone in front of a bunch of strange beings and hopelessly confused. He sighed and rubbed his forehead, wishing he could go somewhere else and sleep for a decade. But his mind whirled with far too many questions. 

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on?"

The Guardians looked at him, then at each other as if debating who should break the bad news. He half expected Chaos to shout out, "Not it!"

When they still hadn't spoken, Harry scowled and turned to Destiny and Fate. "Let's make this easier. What was your plan for the Prophecy?"

Destiny sighed and opened the tome on her lap. "That hardly matters now. But very well. You were marked at birth as the Phoenix Lord and Child of Light to fulfill the Prophecy set when our own mandate was established."

Harry frowned. "I thought it was foretold after the creation of the talismans."

Fate shook her head. "No. Aren't you listening? This was the last piece of the universe the Creator gave us to manage. He set down our laws and gave us governorship over the realms, and this Prophecy was supposed to be our last test."

"You mean . . . this whole thing was a . . . a test, a puzzle for you to solve?" Harry spluttered, "A game to beat?"

Chaos shrugged. "I guess you could put it that way. I prefer to think of it as an obstacle course."

Harry gave up. "All right, fine. So what was I supposed to do, Destiny?"

She tapped her finger on her book. "I had planned on you growing up as a normal wizard with your parents, going to Hogwarts and finding a DADA teacher who would train you and teach you enough so that you could later discover the existence of the talismans sometime in your sixth year, and then finding and destroying them around your 21st birthday."

"But what about Voldemort?" Harry pressed. "Even if you hadn't originally planned on him being a threat, once he did you had to plan something. How was I supposed to defeat him?"

Destiny allowed herself an ironic smile. "Actually, I hadn't planned on you facing him at all. The Prophecy was enough. But once he attacked you unsuccessfully and you became the Boy Who Lived, then I knew you had to at least survive if not be the one to kill him."

Harry scratched at his neck. "But the Prophecy said I'd be the only one to defeat him."

Destiny laughed. "You really think that Voldemort is the great evil 'more terrible than any before'? My young phoenix, sometimes you have a very narrow worldview. Yes, he was attempting to become immortal, but so have many others over the centuries, some with greater success than he. He only became truly dangerous when he entered into full alliance with Lucifer. Before that, he was just a powerful mortal angry at the world."

Fate snorted as she crossed her legs. "Grindlewald would have brushed him aside without a second glance. Hitler would have shipped him in a cattle car to a gas chamber without fuss. The Mayan shamans could have torn him to pieces like their Muggle sacrifices and drunk his blood with dinner. The Dark ones who helped destroy Atlantis, who were also in league with Lucifer albeit indirectly, could have used his body parts as flotation devices after their country sank beneath them."

Nature chuckled. "Wizards today certainly have gone soft."

Harry tried to contain his anger at their condescending tones. "If the Prophecy wasn't about Voldemort, then what?"

Destiny hesitated. "Well, at first we though it might be Lucifer, but as things have worked out, I believe that it is the talismans."

"You believe?!" Harry hid his eyes and groaned. "Somebody please straighten me out before my head explodes."

Destiny flipped a few pages back in her book as Chaos snickered at Harry's confusion. "Very well. I'll go through the Prophecy and explain each element as we interpret it." Harry nodded gratefully and sat down with a sigh, stretching out his legs.

Destiny began to recite, "_'A great evil shall arise, more terrible than any before_.' As I said, I believe this refers to the talismans. Their power has destroyed and ruined much more than any other, including Lucifer and his demons. 

"'_A shroud of darkness will fall, enslaving all.'_ Again the talismans. They've affected every single realm in some fashion, ruining what was once a fine work of art with a creeping disease. For instance, it was actually their creation which crossed another realm with yours, giving magic to humans. 

"Since then, your world has been wracked with war, distrust, suspicion, ambition, witch hunts and genocide. Magic can be used for good, but its overall effects have been negative. Humanity has been limited by superstition and division, until the entire magical community was driven into hiding, separated from their kin by a gift they cannot help or control. What was once whole has been split in two, magic and Muggle."

She cleared her throat and read on. "_'Impenetrable save for one.'_ This leads into the identification of the one who can destroy them. _'A child shall be born of light'_, indicating one dictated by this Prophecy. _'The blood of the four in his veins.'_"

Destiny paused, and Harry spoke up, "I was lead to believe that referred to the Hogwarts founders: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. And the convergence of these four bloodlines led to the heir of Merlin."

Fate grinned, bright blue eyes twinkling. "Ah, but if that was so, then how come you don't have a drop of Slytherin blood in you?"

"Er . . well, when Voldemort attacked me," Harry stammered, and Nature shook her head.

"No, young phoenix. There was a power transfer, yes, but not blood. Now while power is sometimes blood-linked, it is not as potent as some purebloods like to believe. Why else would your Hermione Granger be such a powerful witch compared to say Draco Malfoy?" 

She shot an amused glance at Fate, who looked very pleased with herself judging by her satisfied smirk and blond hair. "Random biological mutations and inconstant heredity, especially in terms of magic, is one of Fate's finer works of art."

Harry shook his head. "So if not the founders, who are 'the four'?"

Destiny gestured towards Nature's seat. "The four Elements. Blood is not a strict translation, for in your tongue it can also mean power. Single Elemental magic was a rare Mage characteristic, but all four Elementals was unheard of before. That mean that although you were human, you were to be greater in power than the original Phoenix Lords in order to accomplish your task.

"A Child of Light indicates general prophecy, but Warrior of Light meant that you were meant for this Prophecy. As an embodiment of life, you were to be given the blessing from each Guardian, and the Elementals were Nature's gift to you."

Her finger traced over the lines in her book again. "That leads us to the next part. _'Bright as a star, the heir of Merlin joins with angel's light.'_ The Shamak'la, in your tongue, roughly means 'starlight.' So you were to be as powerful as they are. This is strengthened by the title 'heir of Merlin,' for few know that Merlin was the last Phoenix Lord."

A Shamak'la off to the side rippled until it became the well-known wizard and waved at Harry with a grin and a twinkle not unlike Dumbledore on lemon drops. Harry nodded at him with a slight smile of his own, then turned back to the Guardians. "Okay, I get that. What about the 'joins with angel's light' part? Another Phoenix Lord reference?"

Destiny hesitated, and they all looked around with uncertainly. "Well . . . actually, we haven't been able to figure that part out," she admitted softly with a light flush on her cheeks. "Nothing seems to fit, no matter how you translate it."

Harry stared at her, incredulous. "You've had this prophecy to puzzle over for countless millennia with nearly infinite power and knowledge at your disposal, and you can't decipher a childish rhyme?"

Chaos interjected, "Actually, none of it rhymes. It's prose. If you want rhymes, check out Shakespeare. Or Mother Goose." 

Love put an elbow in his side none too gently, and he shied away with a smirk. Time rolled his eyes. "Quiet you. And you, young phoenix, do not seem to understand just how confusing this Prophecy really is. We have been trying to decipher this since He gave it to us, but we had to work with thousands of realms and untold numbers of possibilities and lives and circumstances."

Chaos nodded, keeping an eye on Love's sharp elbows. "It's worse than trying to find a needle in a haystack. At least the needle is shiny."

Destiny shot an annoyed glance at Chaos and cleared her throat. "Moving on. _'He alone can shoulder the burden, holding the fire in his soul.'_ Obviously you, marked by the phoenix with its fire in your soul, were the only one who could find and take the talisman."

Harry furrowed his brow. "But there are two talismans, and I only found one."

Fate nodded. "Yes, but there was originally only one. The dagger was created by Lucifer, and that one you found. The orb was created by us to siphon off some of its powers, to keep it from being used at full strength against us. Voldemort found the lesser one."

Destiny tucked her hair behind her ear as she leaned over the pages. "The orb was neutral, but the dagger was the dangerous one. And only you can destroy it, since _'only he can defeat the darkness, with the fire of the sky as his sign' –_ your scar," she said, glancing at his forehead, and Harry rubbed it self-consciously. 

She continued, "_'And the strength of the lion in his spirit.'_ The lion is a worthy animal, king of the beasts, and is often seen as a strong savior and protector. You have demonstrated this all your life; bravery, nobility, chivalry, strength of will, stubbornness, loyalty and ferocity. This is why you chose Gryffindor for your family."

Harry nodded in acceptance of that, but frowned. "Wait, I have a question that Death refused to answer. You say that I am the only one who could destroy the talisman, but everything I've read said that the whole reason you didn't take care of it was because its destruction would have sacrificed another realm. So how was I supposed to do it?"

Fate flipped her dice from hand to hand as she stared at him. "I believe I gave you instructions shortly after you found it."

"What is with those damn instructions?" he muttered under his breath, then said in a louder tone, "What do you mean? I never received anything having to do with the talisman, especially not from you."

Fate rolled her eyes and pointed at his chest. "What are you wearing right now?" Harry looked down at his shirt, still dirty and bloodstained from the battle another realm away in another time. "No, not your shirt. Beneath it. Around your neck."

Harry touched his neck and the metal chain encircling it, and for the first time in a long time he remembered the pendant that Ron gave him for his birthday. He brought it out from beneath his shirt and looked at the phoenix and serpent carvings again. The emeralds glinted in the light, and the script along this edges seemed as strange as the first time he saw it. But this time he didn't feel like he should know them.

He looked up at Fate, frowning as comprehension began to stir. "Are you saying this pendant has instructions for destroying the talisman? And I've been wearing it the entire time?"

Fate nodded. "I used your friend Ron to make sure the pendant got to you. The instructions are right there, written in the ancient language the Shamak'la used on Earth as the Phoenix Lords. The first time you held it in the presence of the talisman, it began to translate for you. But you stopped before it could complete, and you haven't looked at it since."

Harry fingered the pendent, the metal warm from his flesh. "Why did you have to encode a piece of jewelry at all? Why not a book or something? Or better yet, why didn't someone just tell me?"

"Because I thought this would be easier and more secure," Fate frowned at him as her hair tinted orange again. "Obviously I underestimated your intelligence and insight. For all your powers and maturity, you still think like a teenage boy."

"Maybe that's because I am a teenage boy," Harry shot back. "I like clear instructions, not obscure hints. Giving things with hidden meanings like jewelry and flowers is for girls. I'd expect that to fall in Love's department, not yours."

Chaos snickered at Fate. "What is with you and unclear directions? Remember when you tried to tell Christopher Columbus how to get to India? Or better yet, that debacle in the Solari system with the slum sparrows?"

Fate seemed ready to grab Destiny's tome out of her hands and chuck it straight at Chaos' head. The Shamak'la shifted, like an audience waiting with bated breath for a fight to break out. Harry sighed. "I can see why they keep the two of you separated," he remarked as he rubbed his forehead.

His fingers traced over his scar, and suddenly he paused. "Wait a second. _'The fire of the sky as his sign'_ . . . the Prophecy says I'd have a lightning shaped scar. But that was from Voldemort's attack on me. So how can you say that I wasn't supposed to have a connection with Voldemort?" 

Nature smiled. "Don't you have another scar just like that?"

Harry frowned, thinking hard, and Nature prompted, "On your chest, right by that pendant?" After a moment, recognition flared and he placed a hand on the scar left over from the lightning strike last spring.

Chaos grinned at him. "That wasn't accidental, much as I like to do that. Lightning is representative of the four Elements. They were claiming you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "They have horrible timing. At least I caught the Snitch first. And frankly I find it a bit too coincidental that Voldemort gave me a lightning scar first."

Fate tossed her hair behind her shoulders. "There are no coincidences, young phoenix," she stated imperiously. 

Destiny blew out a breath. "We're almost finished. The last part says, _'Darkness rises, darkness falls, but the light will always prevail.'_ This is His guarantee that we will not completely fail or be destroyed, no matter what comes against us. It is His promise of protection." She slammed her book closed and regarded Harry with solemn dark eyes.

"I had a plan, but somehow we were all thwarted by you. Your powers have grown strong, much stronger than you should have, and Death has taken advantage of this."

Harry looked around at all of them, and said slowly, "If it's my fault, why exactly are you so mad at Death? What has she done that's so bad?"

Love sighed. "Simply put, she made a deal with you that she was not allowed to make and you were not supposed to agree to. You defeated Lucifer and Voldemort and placed them back under her control, restoring part of her stolen power, then gave yourself to her before your purpose was fulfilled. But you made a binding agreement with her, which extended to her all of your own power and therefore the power to flout the Code of the Guardians. 

"You still have your power, but you are hers and by extension everything you are and have is also hers. That is why you are still here, belonging to Death but not dead, when the talismans still exist. The Prophecy has not been fulfilled. You made a deal with the devil herself and made her tyrant over us. We are weakened, and nothing can stop Death. No laws can hold her now."

Harry could only stand there, opening and closing his mouth like a landed carp. "But . . . but why?" he stumbled over the words as she hips seemed numb with shock. 

Time pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at his eyes wearily. "It is because she was weakened and longed to be whole again. You see young phoenix, Lucifer used to be Death's Shamak'la, her right hand servant. He was her messenger and her voice, her herald. He often appeared in your realm as a raven, which is why it became known as the bird of death."

Nature folded her hands and continued the story in a solemn voice. "Lucifer became tired of his role, always at the feet of Death but never to stand with her. So he tried to confront her, to make her recognize him as an equal. But the Code forbid it, and she slapped him back into his place. 

"Burning with hate and jealousy, he secretly began to search for ways to make himself more powerful than Death and to weaken her. He covertly seduced a section of the Shamak'la over to his side, then sacrificed them and their power in order to draw on the energy of the universe and shape it to his will in the form of the talisman. It took so much energy that its creation obliterated an entire realm, erasing it from existence.

"In the confusion that followed, Lucifer convinced over a third of the lesser Shamak'la to join him, and our battle began. In a sudden surprise attack, they started a devastating war that raged through all realms that lasted millennia."

Now Destiny took up the narrative, eyes far away as if seeing it all in the past. "Somehow Lucifer gave Death the talisman in secret, and even as we fought to contain the damage he was doing, she was being changed. The talisman strengthened Lucifer while it drew her powers, but contrary to his initial conception it did not siphon her powers to him. 

"Instead the dagger took her powers and essence, and as it had nowhere to contain them, it funneled them back into her in a different form. The opposing forces within her battled each other, unseen to us until it was too late. In the end Death was split in two, each part at a little over half strength since they shared a link still."

Destiny sighed as she ran a hand back through her hair, for an instant looking weary and disheartened. "The talisman is possibly the most dangerous artifact ever in existence. Its powers are greater than those of any Guardian and has a terrible affect on anybody it touches. This is increased by the fact that it also has an addictive quality, making the wielder unwilling and incapable of giving it up." 

She looked carefully at Harry. "You tasted that power, the raw energy of the universe, when you first touched it. Frankly, I'm surprised that you survived, let alone with your mental capabilities intact. If you had done it properly, you would have known not to touch. As it is, you know well the addition of the dagger."

He just looked at her, and so with a shrug she continued the history lesson. "Meanwhile the war was going badly; the Shamak'la had outposts in all the realms, images of this city. They were all destroyed, and we were losing control of the realms. It was only after Death was divided that we figured out the talisman's powers, and so combined our powers to create the orb talisman to drain the dagger and, by association, Lucifer. 

"Atlantis was the outpost in your realm, and where the last battle was fought. Lucifer and his followers destroyed the city and most of its inhabitants, both wizards and Muggles, in a last desperate effort to escape. But that exertion in addition to the influence of the orb weakened them enough so we were able to defeat them. 

"We exiled him into a half-created realm designed to hold him. You have been there, in what you know as the Dream Stand. Lucifer was banished there, unable to connect with other realms, but his followers escaped and scattered through the realms to wreck random havoc. They became the demons that you fought against, only able to come together if their master bid them to follow another. 

"Now that he was contained, we had to decide what to do with the talismans. Their destruction would mean the sacrifice of another realm, and we could not risk that. That was when we figured that the Prophecy must refer to the talismans, and the One would come to destroy them. So we sent some loyal Shamak'la to hide them in your realm, planting the clues and the obstacles in your path to make sure none but the One found it. And then we waited."

Fate spoke next, her face and tone pensive. "The problems with you only really began after you entered Hogwarts. Voldemort in the overall scheme of things was insignificant, but your connection to him had already helped shape part of your realm, and we had no choice but to incorporate that into your destiny. It hadn't been the original plan, but it was working. 

"We were debating which Shamak'la to send down and begin your training, but we could not come to an agreement. Destiny hadn't written whether or not you were supposed to defeat Riddle or not, so we didn't know whether to train you for war or not. While others dithered," she shot a glare at her sister, "you went through a succession of teachers, none of which equipped you properly for anything, and Voldemort targeted you again.

"Death must have mentioned this to some of her charges, your parents and ancestors, and they decided that they would pick the trainer. They charged her with the task of training you, and so she took you away to fulfill that charge. That was never supposed to happen, not in any conceivable plan. She trained you a little too well, young warrior, yet only focused on the mortal battle with nothing about the talismans. 

"Once you returned and started you shadow war, Lucifer managed to contact Voldemort by assistance with his demons and offered him an alliance. Again, that was not supposed to happen. From there things spiraled out of control, and that is when I believe you began to control Death. Your actions preempted Destiny's books and dictated a new one, and in her weakened state Death was forced to follow.

"That is why she took it upon herself to influence you directly, even to the point of giving up some of her own power to further you along your path. She used you to empower herself in the end by stealing from others: us, you, even Lucifer. He's now back in her control. Now she who was weakened is stronger than us all."

The last word rang through the chamber, echoing off the gold walls. Harry sat there, chewing his lower lip as he assimilated it all and thought hard. "So you can't stop her."

Chaos shook his head. "She is too powerful, to the point where she is able to do all our jobs herself now. No one can challenge Death."

Harry narrowed his eyes as a thought occurred to him, and he turned to Love. "You said she had a strange connection with me. Does she love me?"

Love paused, then gave a single nod. "I do not believe she realizes it herself, but yes, she does. That is part of the reason why she chose to help you, even give part of herself to you. She cannot help that she feels what she feels."

Harry nodded to himself and scrambled to his feet, stretching out a kink in his back. He bowed briefly to the guardians and began walking towards the huge entrance doors. Fate called after him, "Young phoenix, where are you going?"

Harry paused and looked over his shoulder without turning. "Love can be one's greatest strength or weakness. It all depends on how it's used."

Chaos furrowed his brow, wrinkling an otherwise unmarred visage with worry. "What will you do?"

Harry faced forward again and strode through the doors as he said fiercely, "End this. I'm going to conquer Death." 


	36. Seduction and Betrayal

A/N: Um, yeah, updates are a little slow. Why? Because I went from sitting on my butt writing because I was bored, out of school and unemployed, to working 3 different jobs. One full time and two part time, which means that some days I am up for 27 hours or more at a time and work 24 of that. It leaves precious little time for sleep, let alone writing, typing it all up and sending it to my awesome beta to correct and castigate before I fight my family for the computer to post. 

Rest assured though, I am working hard on this in my head, and I promise that I will finish it, hopefully in the next month or so. Meanwhile keep the reviews coming; it inspires me to work on this rather than sleep. *grins*

Yes, this chapter is short, but that's because while this one gave me a headache with all the problems I had with it, the next is giving me a migraine. I think you would all rather have something short rather than a long agonizing wait. JKR is already giving us those in spades. Besides, this is important, and gives you something to think about for a while.

Disclaimer: You've heard this before, so I'm not going to repeat it. On with the story.

Chapter 36

Harry strode through the City quickly and out into the plains, following the path Death had taken. Briefly he looked around and wondered what was beyond the horizon. All he could see here was the ancient city rising behind him and surrounded by endless stretches of rolling hills of verdant grasses. But surely there was something more to this realm.

He shook his head and hurried out into the hills, focusing on finding Death. She was quite easy to track, as he was bound to her through their pact, body and soul, like a puppy on a leash. He could feel her presence as he walked through the unmarked plains to the place where they had first met. 

Death stood at the top of a low hill in the distance, her back to him and head bowed. Harry slowed his approach, eyeing her cautiously. Her presence called to him like a beacon, but her thoughts were tightly closed off, appearing almost as a solid wall to him. But her emotions were another thing entirely. 

Gone was the ice cold implacable Death he first met out here. Now she radiated power, cold yet confused, and much to his consternation she was acting like . . . like a woman, with the full emotion range of one. Her posture spoke of proud weariness, defiance and loneliness in her tense shoulders and hanging head. 

Harry bit his lip, considering as he looked at her turned back, eyes narrowed as if to gaze beneath the physical form to the essence underneath. 

Then a well-known voice piped up in the back of his head. "So what are we going to do with the bitch?"

Harry groaned internally. He had wondered where he had gone. "Would it be too much to ask for you to just leave?"

"Can't leave," Wraith said smugly. "I belong here."

"You belong in a mental institution."

"Um, Mr. Pot, an owl for you from Mr. Kettle. Something about dark as a blackboard," Wraith responded mockingly. "So Black, what do we do with the bitch?"

"Don't call her that," Harry growled at him, this mental duality combined with the strain of his other problems thinning his patience considerably. 

"Oh, that's right. Fate is the bitch. Death's just being a possessive man eater. What are you going to do about it?"

Harry shook his head, wishing that for once Wraith could offer him a viable suggestion. "I don't know. We can't stay like this, but she won't let go."

Wraith smirked. "I say we fight her. Her back's turned, she's not expecting it, and she's already been weakened."

Harry snorted derisively. "What are we going to do? Kill her?" 

"No," came the insulted response, "Just go and beat the crap out of her, then take what you need." 

"And exactly how do you propose we do that?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Is that your answer to everything? Beat it up, blow it up, slice it, dice it and otherwise destroy it?" 

Wraith didn't answer, but he didn't need to. "Listen, Demolition Man, either help me with this, or go play in a minefield. We can't do a frontal assault, even if her back is turned. A confrontation with her right now will turn us into a little greasy spot on the grass. We need to convince her. Do this subtly."

Needless to say, subtle was not in Wraith's vocabulary. "What, you want to go up and ask nicely?" He sounded disgusted. "How do you propose we 'convince' her to give up? She has everything she needs and wants."

Harry kept his gaze on Death as he tentatively tried to feel something along their bond. The confused mix of emotions were still there, and he remembered his words to the Guardians. "Not everything," he murmured quietly, then walked over to Death. Wraith quieted down to watch the show, interest piqued.

Could he do this? Well, he couldn't die again, so that wasn't a worry. But this required delicacy and emotional sensitivity: He had to deal with an emotional female Death on matters of the heart, and that scared Harry more than the final battle with Voldemort/Lucifer had. 

He wasn't very good dealing with emotional women. His awkwardness around Hermione and Ginny at times made that quite apparent. Hell, as a teenage guy he barely could deal with his own feelings. Plus he'd trained himself to repress them, to be hard and cold as stone. But maybe, just maybe, if he could open himself up, he could pull this off.  

Quietly he walked up behind Death, mind casting for something to say. Death took no notice of him, so caught up in her own thoughts. Harry stood directly behind her, only a hand's breadth between their bodies, leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Lonely at the top, isn't it?"

Death raised her head and turned a bit, not quite looking at his face. "The others told you what I did? And why?" He nodded and she sighed nearly inaudibly. 

"I did not set out to rearrange the universe. I . . . I simply wanted to be normal again, not weak and barely more than a Shamak'la. The others laugh at me when they think I cannot hear. I know they think I deserve to be brought so low and to remain there as penance for my servant breaking free." 

Harry murmured, "But that wasn't your fault. You've suffered enough already, and more besides."

She nodded slowly, gazing into the distance. "All I wanted was for it to end," she whispered, a tiny note of sorrow coloring her voice. 

"I understand." Gently Harry brought his arms up to encircle her around her waist, and she stiffened in surprise. He tried not to let his own discomfort show – he wasn't used to hold a woman, let alone one who wasn't human. And the fact that it was Death made that worse.

Harry noticed that she felt cool in his arms, not the bitter chill he had expected from the first time he met her. Instead she felt as if she'd been outside on a chilly night for a bit too long. 

That made him think of Eva, of that not-quite dream on the roof, and instinctively he held her closer as if to share body heat and warm them both, cradling her in his arms. Death resisted at first, clearly surprised and uncertain, but then he sensed a slight crack appear in her armor as she closed her eyes and relaxed back against him. 

He smiled inwardly. Maybe if he treated her like she was Eva, he could get somewhere in this battle of wits and wills. 

He murmured in her ear, "We are two of a kind, you and I. We both were helpless before a greater force, and we swore never to be that way again. But to make it all stop, we became greater than we expected. You the undisputed master of all the Guardians, and I the legendary warrior and controller of Destiny and Death."

She shuddered, and he tightened his hold briefly in a hug. "Only you can know what I've been through, just as only I can understand why you did what you did. Both of us were split and long to be whole again. We both did what we though was the right thing to do." 

Death stood there for a moment, then stiffened and tried to break out of his embrace. "No. You cannot understand. I do not even understand. We are too different." She pushed away from him and he let her go, watching as she walked a few steps away with her back turned to him. He had to act now.

He called softly, "I understand that you're lonely." 

She stopped dead in her tracks, and he continued, "It feels like you're alone, so terribly alone that it hurts, doesn't it? You want to scream and rage, to do anything to make it stop, to destroy something as long as it numbs the pain, fills the emptiness." 

She didn't say a word, but he detected a minute tremble in her shoulders. "You long for something, but you don't know what until you find it." 

Her head was bowed again and she swallowed hard. If she was human, Harry would have sworn she was about to burst into tears. Surprisingly his own heart ached slightly with her pain, knowing that he was the cause of at least part of it. And here he thought he could never feel any emotions again. 

Inspiration hit him, and he said impulsively, "All you wanted was to be normal again, yet now you're an outcast. You wanted to be part of the group, have that sense of comradeship that you were created with. It's been denied you too long."

Death was shaking when she finally rounded on him, hands clenched in fists. "And what can you do about it?" she fairly hissed. "You are my property, nothing more. If I wanted companionship I could find it elsewhere than in an unworthy troublesome mortal!"

Harry only arched an eyebrow. "Then why didn't you?" he countered. "Why did you focus all your energy, go to such lengths to make me yours? Even to the point of violating your Code and threatening your very existence?"

She stared at him with wide eyes before whirling back around without an answer. He took a step towards her. "Love said it. You are connected to me by one of her threads."  

Another step. "And more, you wanted an equal." 

Another step, even closer. "The other Guardians are by nature different from you. You want someone to match you, to understand you."  

"You are not my equal!!" she spat back over her shoulder.

He only chuckled dryly, laughing in the face of Death as she spun at him, this time with her hand raised. He caught a flash of intense anger from her, mixed with something else, but he didn't have time to ponder that. She shot a stream of black icicles straight at him, razor sharp points glinting in the light as they aimed for his chest.

Harry retaliated with a jet of fire, a brilliant arch of flames that flowed from his hand to meet the ice head on. The two met in the middle, and a brief battle raged in the air before they cancelled each other out and disappeared. 

Death stared at Harry, bother their hands still raised towards each other as if in greeting. He stared right back at her intently, mentally begging for her to lower her walls and surrender to him. As if she heard him, she lowered her hand and turned away yet again, giving her head a little shake as her walls snapped back up higher than ever. 

Harry let his own hand drop as he said, "You see? Who else can meet your challenge? Who else dares to?" He sensed her confusion through their bond.

Death muttered to herself, "That is impossible." Her tone indicated that she was quickly doubting everything she knew. 

He nodded and took a step towards her, wanting to keep a distracting physical proximity to her. "I am impossible. As are you. Neither should be what we are." 

Her breath quickened as she shook her head again, thinking hard. Finally she said grudgingly, "Equals we may be in power, but we are still opposites. I am ice. You are fire. I freeze in my darkness while you burn in your own light."

She tensed as he stood behind her and whispered, nearly purred in her ear, "They do say opposites attract." 

She turned her head slightly away from him, but at the same time leaned back slightly as if yearning from him to embrace her again, the evidence of the battle between her head and her emotions. 

He let his breath tickle along the side of her neck as he murmured, "Can't ice burn too?" 

He could have sworn she whimpered. He grinned to himself and encircled her in his arms again, simultaneously sending a surge of positive emotions through their bond. The small crack widened as the walls started to shake, and she submitted to his embrace instantly, resting her head back on his shoulder so that he could lean his cheek against her cold one, which was starting to warm. 

They were equal height, he noted, and like this she fit perfectly against him. He held his tongue for a long moment, enough for her to really relax against him, then murmured, his breath wafting past her cheek like as caress, "You want me, don't you?" 

Death didn't move, but he knew she was listening. "You want me to be there for you, to support you. You want me to hold you and shield you. You want me to let you lean on me just like this, to be the only one you can give up control to." 

She shivered, a fine tremble that move through her entire body, and her hands clasped over his, resting on her stomach. He turned his face so that his lips nearly touched her ear as he whispered, "You carry such a burden." He nuzzled her hair a bit, pushing the silver strands away from his face. "Let me help you." 

Now that was a whimper. Her eyes fluttered closed, and finally she breathed out, "Yes." 

With that single word, the last of her walls came down in a mighty crash and the bond between them was fully open. 

Instantly Harry was inundated with her, her power and presence, as he suddenly and completely knew what it was to be a Guardian. This was like when he had touched the talisman for the first time, but so much more personal and, dare he say it, intimate. 

He hadn't been this open to anyone since he and Eva had shared a full mental bond. But somehow this was more complete and intense, cold edged with fire. Instead of the warm comfort of Eva's presence in a single spot in his mind, this was a tidal rush that occupied every part of him, seeking out the hidden corners and holes to fill and flood. 

Harry closed his eyes and held Death tighter, anchoring himself to something real as his entire being rocked and reeled under the overload.

Eventually he settled and breathed out as he adjusted to the massive power influx still flowing between them. Death now felt warm in his arms, the ice finally melted into a sea where both of them floated in the depths. They were equals now, two souls shared more intimately than the clones had, joined and fused with a greater source of power.  

Death relaxed against him, her face turned and hidden in the side of his neck, her breath tickling the fine hairs there. She seemed more than satisfied to stay there and remain exactly as they were, contentment humming through their bond. 

Harry allowed himself to enjoy this for a moment, his own loneliness finally assuaged for the first time. She wasn't Death, just a woman in his arms loving him. He closed his eyes and let himself feel everything about this moment, hoping to etch it into his mind for eternity.

Oh, how he wished . . .

But that didn't matter. Equality had not part in the task he had to accomplish, and the universe didn't care about his happiness. Death sensed his resignation and raised her head, meeting his eyes with concern. "Harry?"

He shivered a bit. When was the last time someone had called him by name? It seemed a lifetime ago. It made his heart ache, and she felt it. He looked into her eyes, seeing his own emerald reflected in quicksilver pools. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

With all his strength, Harry struck, reaching along their bond to began drawing more of her energy to him, taking everything he could. The world around him swirled and wavered as reality fizzled under the sudden onslaught, but his gaze remained fixed with hers. Her eyes widened as she felt what he was doing, and her lips moved as if to protest, but nothing emerged.

Briefly she struggled, both mentally and physically, but his arms held her still and tight against him as he used her assault to draw even more from her. The ocean that they had both been floating in was now draining, not away but directly into him, ice cold whirlpools filling him and threatening to spill over. Power throbbed through him forcefully, straining his limits, but still he took more. 

Their gazes held throughout, his reflecting determination and apology, hers betrayal and horror as her power was completely drained. The silver of her hair and eyes began to dim to a dull cloudy gray, while his eyes burned brighter and darker. It seemed as if stars could have been born and died in the time it took for him to complete his mission. 

Finally Death's eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against him, sliding down into the grass as all strength left her. Harry caught her and gently lowered her to the ground so that she rested on her hands and knees. 

Slowly she raised her head and looked him in the eye, ice tears sparkling on her cheeks magnifying the depth of her betrayed feelings. Harry winced a bit and lightly stroked her silver gray hair, trying to give her what comfort he could when he himself now felt ice cold. 

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but it had to be done. I have to finish this." He stood and looked down at her kneeling at his feet for a second., then turned away.

He left her there as he walked out of sight of the city, created a portal between realms and stepped through.

********************************

The Guardians emerged from their chamber and hurried out into the plains at a dead run. They had felt the disturbance in the magic of the city – actually, calling it a disturbance was an understatement, rather like calling a massive volcanic eruption a flea burp. Needless to say, they had to know for sure.

Fate sprinted through the grass with Chaos right beside her, hoping frantically that they were mistaken. Admittedly, that was a very slim, frantic and unlikely hope. An immense power shift like that wasn't hard to identify, and right now there was only one possible reason for it. 

But she still had to hope that irritating mortal hadn't screwed up yet again. 

Just then she saw a flash of silver and stumbled to a halt, hopes crashing down around her as she stared dumbly at the impossible sight of Death crumpled to her knees.

Death never faltered; not in the battle with the talismans, not when her servant faced her directly with her own weakness, not even when the whole of the Council was against her. She was always proud, merciless, untouchable and above all strong, never showing weakness. 

To see her like this, brought so low, meant that the worst thing possible had occurred. 

Fate sighed heavily and knelt down next to Death, tentatively putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. Death looked up at her, eyes gleaming icy gray from unshed tears, then in an uncharacteristic move laid her head on the Guardian's shoulder with a shuddering breath that sounded almost like a sob. "He left. He left me," Death whimpered. "He betrayed me and left."

Fate rubbed her back in small soothing circles, hiding her perplexity at Death's words. "He is a mortal with a purpose to fulfill. Of course he left. Why does that upset you so much?"

Love crouched down beside them, her golden eyes gleaming in a young beautiful face. "The ones we love have the power to hurt us the most," she murmured with compassion. "I have seen this many times."

Death shook her head slightly, face still buried in Fate's shoulder. "You don't understand. With him, I felt . . . complete, like I never have before. Not even before she left have I ever been so content. And then he abandoned me, took everything and left me with nothing." 

She glanced desperately at Love, face drawn and eyes slightly reddened. "Why do I feel this way? How could you make me love? Especially for a mortal? I . . . . I've wanted him since before I even met him." 

Love shook her head sadly. "I do not know how you could have fallen in love with him. Guardians are not supposed to love or feel anything strong for mortals, other than a sense of duty or compassion. But he has caused many impossible things before."

"And you were fool or mad enough for him to share everything. Now we have a mortal running around with the powers of a super enhanced Death." Chaos sighed heavily, then raised his arms above his head and stretched like a cat. "Sounds like a bad comic book," he commented sardonically, earning a dark warning scowl from Nature. 

Love turned a reproachful look to him, as if to tell him now was not the time for jokes. Chaos only shrugged unapologetically, then looked out into the distance in almost serious contemplation. But serious was not a major part of his character. "So what do we do now, Miss Lonely Hearts?" 

"More like Aunt Agony if you ask me," an unexpected voice came from behind them, and as Death stiffened Chaos turned to see Eva approaching them. She ignored the glare Destiny sent her way and knelt beside Death, an unreadable look in her eyes.

"Harry is back at Hogwarts, or what's left of it, at least. He's getting ready to find the talismans where Lucifer left them." 

Death straightened and looked intently at Eva. "You heard everything, didn't you?"

Eva nodded. "I was in the chamber. I heard and felt what he did out here too."

Fate glared daggers at her at close range. "You're part of the reason this whole plan went to pieces. You've been helping him against our wishes."

Eva shot her a dark look and growled. "By the time you made your displeasure loudly known, it was far too late to change things." She turned to Death and said softly, "I've been helping you, too. All those Death Eaters sent to my realm were deposited in your playground."

Death nodded faintly. "I noticed. It did help. Thank you." 

Eva reached out and touched Death's cheek, and for a long moment they simply looked at each other. Then Eva nodded and withdrew her hand as she stood. "I need to talk to Harry."

Time touched her arm and she turned to him with a questioning look. "What will you tell him?" he asked gently, ancient blue eyes spearing into hers. "He thinks you lied to him after you said you'd be the one to tell him the absolute truth. The betrayal here was done by all, manifested in one. How do we know he won't hurt you too?"

Eva sighed, her face twisting briefly with pain. "I have to risk it. He needs to know. He cannot fulfill the Prophecy unless he knows the full consequences." She glanced at Death still on her knees in Fate's care. "He deserves to know the truth, and to decide how best to let it set him free."

She met Destiny's eyes, which were simultaneously reproachful and apprehensive. "He may have conquered Death, but he has yet to conquer me."

Without another word, she stepped through the fabric of the universe and disappeared from the realm of the Guardians.

Nature shook her head, her hands twisting with worry. "Foolish girl. What does she hope to accomplish with this? What is done cannot be undone by her."

Love narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, glancing down at Death. "Maybe, maybe not. But Death is not the only one Harry shared a bond with. Perhaps Eva knows something that we do not and can exploit it."

Chaos cocked his head to the side like a dog listening to a distant whistle, a smirk of dark humor playing at his lips. "Seduction, betrayal, and the angel versus the phoenix. Now that would make a good comic book." 


	37. Judas Battles

A/N: First, I have to apologize for tardiness. I promised some people that this would be up a couple weeks ago on my birthday, but obviously it wasn't. I had some last minute inspiration that just needed to be put in, but that meant that I went back and redid the entire chapter a couple times. Anybody who liked the knife throwing in ch. 15 might like this one. Also, I've been working on a short story that will be up on my fictionpress page. Check it out under psychochick3.

My beta Raven Eades is awesome!!! Even though part of my delay is her fault. I decided I had to wait for her opinion, which was well worth it.

Disclaimer: Don't own, never will. No copyright infringement intended. What doesn't belong to JKR is mine, so hand's off!!!

Chapter 37

Crossing the dimensional barriers, Harry found himself not in his own realm as he intended, but rather in someplace completely unexpected.

The light was dim and dreary, like twilight in cloudy winter, and the air had a peculiar cold bite to it. Nothingness stretched to the horizon, and the surface beneath his feet was a featureless black solid. It reminded him uncomfortably of the Dream Stand, Lucifer's realm.

He heard footsteps behind him and whirled around to find himself. Or rather Wraith, walking up casually as if they were just calmly meeting in the corridors of Hogwarts.

"Well, that was an interesting way of doing that," Wraith commented, looking around with hands in his pockets. "Never thought that you could seduce Death."

Harry eyed him, uneasy from the surroundings and the sight of his doppelganger. "Where are we?"

Wraith simply shrugged. "No idea. Bit like that Dream Stand place, but not quite. At least Voldemort isn't here to start with his bondage games again."

Harry shook his head and started walking away, searching for anything in this featureless place. "I need to get out of here."

"What's your hurry? I get the feeling that time doesn't really exist here," Wraith said, following him. He gestured out into the expanse of darkness. "And what exactly do you hope to find? As you can see, there's nothing there. How can you even tell where you're going? Or are you just standing still?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and looked back, noting that everything really was the same. He knelt down and tapped on the floor, but it was solid and refused to scratch. No markers, no tracks, no boundaries existed in this place. Nothing.

He glanced back up at Wraith, who had a sardonic half-smile directed at him. "Already tried that. It's nothing."

"So what do we do? How do we get out of here?" Harry sighed, shifting around to sit cross-legged on the floor.

"No idea in hell," Wraith answered him, glancing around once before lowering himself to sit on the floor across from Harry. He leaned forward, fixing intense blue/green eyes on wary dark emerald ones. "What exactly are you thinking of doing?"

Harry leaned back a bit unconsciously, putting some space between them. "What do you mean?"

"With the talismans, with Death's power. What do you hope to accomplish?"

"An end," he blurted out, then ducked his head down to stare at his hands in his lap.

"An end to what?" Wraith countered, pinning Harry in place with his stare. "To the war? Voldemort is gone, Lucifer is gone, Death is conquered, and nothing can stand in our way. We can fix everything. We can rule over anything we want, or nothing. For the first time, we have choices."

"But the prophecy," Harry began.

"Damn the prophecy! Those Guardians couldn't figure it out after countless millennia. How do you know they're right?" Wraith scowled darkly, his hands clenching and unclenching.

Harry kept his gaze on those hands, noting absently how different they were from his. Slightly longer and calloused with more obvious veins and tendons standing sharply out from under darker skin as they flexed. Strong hands; the hands of a worker, of a warrior.

When Harry didn't answer, Wraith pressed, "The prophecy is a load of rubbish. We forge our own destiny now, away from any else's meddling and agendas. We are our own masters, answering to no one. Perfect freedom for the first time." He leaned back on one hand, eyes narrowing in contempt. "And you would throw it all away."

Harry finally looked up. "You keep saying 'we'. There is no 'we'. There is supposed to be an 'I', but that seems to have been shattered."

Wraith stared at him. "You don't want me here, do you?" he eventually said in a quiet voice. "You hate me, the fact that I used to be part of you. Is that the end you want? The end of me?"

His eerily calm voice set off warning bells in Harry's mind. He averted his eyes from Wraith, but couldn't help himself from saying, "You are not supposed to exist. You're nothing but a side product of the talismans, a tool that got out of control. You said it yourself, the war is over. So why should I keep a warrior around when there is nothing left to fight?"

Wraith's eyes bored into him mercilessly, a laser beam burrowing through the flesh and bone to the spirit underneath. "You think destroying the talismans will destroy me? Is that why you conquered Death? To get rid of me?"

Harry shook his head. "No. The only reason I challenged Death was to break free of our bargain." He frowned. "Which one of us actually made that, anyways?"

Wraith glared at him, irritated at the attempted subject change. "Are you really that stupid? You think that you had to drain Death of all her powers just to renege on the bargain?"

He snorted and shook his head incredulously. "And you think I'm vicious. Couldn't you tell for yourself that you could have just asked to be released? Or even just walked away? Once she gave in, she would have given you anything."

He smirked a bit and leaned forward on his hands, his face hovering only inches from Harry's. "I may be a warrior and a killer, but at least I never deliberately betrayed someone, you heartless bastard," he breathed out. "They say the deepest pits of hell are reserved for betrayers and traitors."

**_utter impenetrable blackness, nothingness in free fall_**

****

**_dark ice burning under the skin, itching, crawling through every inch_**

****

**_bones twisting, breaking, crunching, melting all at once_**

****

**_blood pounding, running, dripping, flowing, congealing_**

****

**_unimaginable stench rising up in clouds from below, gasping, choking, strangling_**

****

**_unearthly shrieks echoing through the blackness, madness unseen but _felt__**

Harry jerked back as his words evoked those vivid mental images, sensations so strong they were nearly tangible yet almost incomprehensible to his mind. He knew he'd never seen anything like it before, yet it was as familiar to him as his own face.

He stared back into Wraith's eyes, shaken both by what he saw and the realization that his counterpart had no idea what he'd done. Quickly he stood on shaky legs and turned to walk away. "I had to," he murmured, not sure anymore who he was talking to.

Wraith followed him. "Had to?" he mocked. "No, you didn't."

Harry spun on him, eyes flaming. "Well, I didn't hear you giving me any really good options, you tosser," he spat. "What were your words? 'Let's fight her,' I believe? 'Just go and beat the crap out of her, then take what you need,' that sound familiar?" He advanced two steps, physically invading Wraith's space as he glared challengingly.

"Do you understand what the situation was? Death had me locked in an unbreakable deal; my life for Voldemort's. I was okay with that. But then came the little catch – I am the only one who can destroy those bloody talismans. I didn't know that before I made the deal. My job wasn't finished yet, and everything was going to keep getting worse until it was. So in order to do that, I have to be alive, which I can't be if Death has a hold on me."

He sneered up at him. "And no, I couldn't just ask. She wouldn't have given me up for anything. Remember before we made that bargain? She didn't want to let us go then, even though she had no real claim on us. Now she had everything she wanted and fought so hard to get. You think she would have just released me without a fight?"

He stepped forward again until he was nose to nose with Wraith. "So yes, I had to. I had to do what I did in order to save the whole fucking universe."

Wraith stared at him a moment in silence, then actually started to laugh. "I don't believe it. Here I thought you just wanted the power. Instead you're deluding yourself into believing that you are doing this for the good of all."

"I don't want this!!" Harry yelled right in his face, furious at his taunting. "I've never wanted any of it!! How can you tell me that you want this, this power ripping through you all the time?! It's driving me mad!! Can't you feel it?!"

"No," Wraith said quietly, unflinching in Harry's outburst. "I can't. I don't know what you're feeling, what Death feels like. I saw what you did, how it affected you, but not me." He sighed. "I'm not you, not anymore. I'm Wraith. Just another voice trapped in your head where it doesn't belong."

"Quit it with the pity party," Harry snapped. "You don't know what this is like. I feel," he started pacing agitatedly, "I feel like I'm lightning in a bottle, pure energy trapped in this tiny fragile shell and waiting to explode out any moment. It's maddening!!"

He whirled back to Wraith, poking a finger into his chest. "And you!! Yes, I do want you gone! I want you dead! I don't know who the hell you are anymore, but I hate you!! You've brought me nothing but pain!!" He emphasized this last part with a hard shove to the chest.

Wraith stumbled back, but then with a growl shoved back. That was it. Harry cocked his arm and threw the hardest punch he could, which caught an unprepared Wraith right in the nose. With a pop blood started pouring out of his nose, staining Harry's knuckles and running down over Wraith's lips.

Unholy fire blazed in blue/green eyes, and snarling Wraith dove for Harry, tackling him around the hips and driving them both to the ground. Harry landed with a bruising thud, knocking the wind out of him, then Wraith was straddling him with one hand on his throat and the other fist aiming for his face.

Harry whipped his head to the side to avoid the punch, but it still grazed the side of his head and made his ear ring. Gritting his teeth, he bucked upwards and threw Wraith off of him. Both scrambled to their feet at the same instant and immediately leapt, wanting nothing more than to pound the other through the solid ground.

Wraith launched a high roundhouse kick at Harry's head, and when Harry reached out to grab his ankle, intent on using the leverage to throw him to the floor, he quickly jerked it back and instead kicked him right in the chest. Harry flew backwards a few feet, gasping as some ribs gave way in sharp bursts of pain, then recovered himself and blocked Wraith's follow-thru punch.

Twisting around, he snapped a side kick into Wraith's armpit, trying to hit the pressure point there. Wraith rolled his shoulder back so the blow missed that spot, but it still came within millimeters of dislocating the entire shoulder.

Ignoring the pain, Wraith ducked a knife hand to the neck, rolled forward to the side to come up behind Harry and jabbed twice into the kidneys.

With a pained grunt Harry threw himself forward, rolling with the impact and simultaneously kicking his feet back. One heel hit Wraith right in the chin, clicking his teeth together sharply and knocking at least two of them loose.

That move left them both sprawled out unceremoniously on the ground for a moment, then Harry rolled up and back to his feet, hate still pouring off him in waves. Wraith shook his head, spit out some blood, then met Harry's charge head on.

They exchanged blow after blow, some impacting while others were barely avoided, but the clones were nearly evenly matched. Just when one would get the advantage, the other would retaliate and claw his way back to the upper hand. Proper fighting styles went out the figurative window; they were fighting to hurt each other, not to end it.

It wasn't until untold minutes later, when Wraith was slamming Harry's head onto the floor, that he even thought to use magic.

Desperately Harry wrenched out of Wraith's grip and kicked his feet upwards, throwing the other over his head to land hard on his back. Stretching out a hand, Harry threw a black fireball at him, which immediately engulfed his opponent.

Wraith rolled out of the way, slapping out the smoldering areas on his clothes as he coughed briefly on the smoke. He kept rolling at Harry fired spell after spell at him, each one splintering on the ground where Wraith had been just a fraction of a second before.

Finally Wraith managed to get up a shield long enough to get back to his feet. With a loathing glare, he shot a curse back at Harry, which hit like a Bludger from hell and snapped his arm in two places.

Harry bit his lip, blocked the pain and let his rage fuel his magic. The cold lightning flared out, swirling through him uncontrollably before directing itself onto Wraith in all it's terrible vengeance.

No light or form was visible with this magic, but icy hands plucked Wraith up from the ground and tossed him upwards high into nothingness before the rest ripped through him, a invisible phalanx of frozen spears.

Wraith hit the ground with a sickening thud and lay still. Harry stared at him, breathing hard and furious through his nose as he struggled to control himself and the power that longed to tear free again. Finally he walked forward, cradling his broken arm, and knelt by Wraith's side.

Wraith slowly turned his head to look at him, blood spattering his face like war paint. There was blood everywhere in fact, oozing from dozens of different wounds and pooling onto the black ground like quicksilver. His hands clutched his torso, trying to press hard enough to contain the blood gushing out over his hands from the fist-sized hole.

He laughed, a quiet choking noise. "You create me, then you destroy me. How appropriate," he managed, blood coating his lips as he spoke. "But no matter what you do, I'll still be here."

Harry furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to ask, but Wraith cut him off. "Go save the world, you bastard," he spat. "Even though you can't even save yourself."

"And how am I supposed to do that? I don't even know where I am!" Harry gritted out, frustrated and confused and guilty.

"Oh, so it's attack first, ask questions later, is it?" Wraith sneered, then coughed up more blood that appeared pink and frothy on his chin. "Wake up."

**_Wake up._**

****

**_Wake up._**

****

**_Wake up._**

****

**_Wake up._**

With a snap his eyes opened and he sat up, frantically looking around his surroundings, confused.

This realm was as if he had never left. How long had it been? Day was still black as night under billowing clouds of ash and smoke, and the ravaged earth was littered with scattered stone and mangled corpses, all covered with a layer of soot. Little points of light marked where guttering fires still managed to feed off something.

Harry blinked, then looked down at himself. His ribs were intact, his arm was fine, and there wasn't any fresh blood. In fact, from all appearances that fight he had just been in never happened.

He shook his head with confusion even as the images began fading from his mind. Did he really just kill off the voice in his head? Or was that all a stress-related dream? Maybe the dimensional transitions were starting to mess with his sanity.

It didn't really matter now, he supposed as he slowly clambered to his feet. He had a job to do. The sooner that was done, the sooner this whole nightmare would be over.

Harry glanced around, remembering when this place had been a peaceful green lawn leading up to a magnificent magical castle. He sighed slightly, careful not to breathe too deeply lest he choke on the foul air.

This more than anything eradicating the last hints of childhood innocence that he'd ever known, whatever scraps that still existed outside himself in memories. All during his shadow war, despite all he had seen and done, as long as he could return to Hogwarts he could at least pretend to be normal. There he had friends and classes and worries like a normal teenager.

Harry shook himself from these thoughts and sternly put them aside as he focused on his task. He had to find the talismans and destroy them. This had to end.

He put his hand on his chest, feeling the pendant still hanging there securely. Without another look back, Harry walked into the remains of the forest, following the throb of magic from the talismans that called to him like a beacon. The gloom soon swallowed him whole, leaving no trace of life.

The ash falling on him diminished as he reached the shelter of tress still with leaves on their branches, then ceased entirely as the forest thickened soon he was fighting his way through undergrowth that tangled around his legs in blackness as the trees blocked all light.

He growled in frustration at the thorns tearing through his trousers, then decided to do something different. With a small pop he shrank into the form of a small snake and easily slithered under the inhibiting foliage. He only changed back when he reached a small clearing with room enough to stand and stretch.

Here the sky seemed a bit lighter, and the ash no longer fell so thickly but rather as a fine dust. He sat down, and only then realized how incredibly thirsty he was. The dust coated his mouth and dried it out until his tongue tasted like a desiccated mummy. He didn't even have enough saliva to spit.

In fact, now that he thought about it, his whole body felt like he'd already been mummified. His eyes itched and wanted to fall through his skull, his skin felt dry and cracked all over like papyrus paper, and his insides ached and shriveled from constant exertion.

He felt like death.

The power flowing through him assured him he was very much alive, though. He saw much more than just the physical, for that was only one plane of this realm. It was as if all his senses had been hyper-extended to see all planes, and brought back so much information on his surroundings it literally crawled and itched under his skin.

Desperate for some relief, Harry put his hand to the ground and called for the Elements. The earth moved under his fingers and a hole about ten feet deep and the same in diameter hollowed itself out, then quickly filled with clean cold water. A light breeze stirred the air, sweeping away the dirty ash and warming like springtime. With a sigh Harry knelt at the side of the pool, dipped his cupped hands in and brought the water to his lips.

The first sip made him gag as it turned to mud from all the dust in his mouth and he spat it out in disgust. The second nearly choked him when the dryness of his throat prevented swallowing.

But when the water hit his tongue the third time, only then he noticed the taste. Instead of a soothing fresh coolness, the water was bitterly cold and stale, like melted snow on a tomb.

Wincing, he still drank it down slowly until his thirst subsided. He splashed his face, sputtering with thermal shock until all the grime rinsed off, then looked down at his reflection.

His hair was short still, (but obnoxiously clearly starting to grow out again) and matted down with dried sweat and grime, and his face looked twenty years older than his age. But his eyes startled him the most.

Gone was the bright emerald green that he inherited from his mum. Now the irises were dark forest green with shades of black, mixing and rippling with the silver surface and black bottom of the pool until he was staring into seeming endlessness. He couldn't tell which was the reflection.

Startled, he jerked back from the water and looked away. An old saying echoed through his head. "_If you gaze into the abyss for too long, the abyss gazes back out of you."_

Shaking his head, he rose and continued on, refusing to look back for fear of what he might see.

The forest was eerily quiet, and if his nerves weren't already strung tighter than a Stradivarius, this would have set him on edge. The trees closed in around him, dark and unremarkable, and he felt like he was going nowhere.

Before there was nothing, here everything was the same something. He couldn't tell which was worse. The only indication that he was getting close was the steadily increasing strength of the talisman's call.

Finally Harry caught a glimpse of a brighter patch of light just ahead, by which he could see the gnarled wood of several ancient yew trees. The talismans' magic pulsed so forcefully he half-expected the trees to be shaking.

Approaching cautiously, he pushed between a couple trunks and stopped gazing at the scene before him with jaded and cynical eyes.

The grass had been entirely scorched away, leaving charred dirt and soot to stir fretfully at every breath of air. In the center were deep gouges in the earth, pitch black and shimmering like tar only slightly dimmed by dust.

Scattered around these small trenches were the remains of the Death Eaters, lying lifeless like half-deflated blow-up dolls, their skin an ashy blue/gray and coated with a fine black dust. Lucius Malfoy's silver hair was clearly visible even under the black, and Harry noticed that his throat was slit wide open.

He smirked slightly at the futility of the scene, then stepped into the clearing and headed for the center. Absently stepping over the corpses, Harry locked his eyes on the small hollow of earth where the talismans lay like discarded toys.

The orb pulsed rhythmically, almost contentedly, but the knife glared out in stark brilliance against the charred earth, its pristine lines and color demanding that it be removed from this place Right Now.

Instinctively Harry reached for it, then hesitated. Now he knew what the talisman did, he wasn't sure he wanted to touch it. What if it split him completely, like Death? Would Wraith help him or oppose him? Would he retain enough power to destroy it? And for that matter, did he want to touch the orb either?

Harry decided he had better not chance it. He stripped off the remains of his shirt, tore it in half, then wrapped both talismans separately. The thin cloth felt woefully inadequate against the magic thrumming around and through them, but it was better than nothing. He stood, tucking each package under one arm, and considered what to do next.

He had to go someplace else. He couldn't destroy them here, so surrounded by the lingering traces of Voldemort's ritual. He needed someplace clear and close, without anybody around. Almost instantly his thoughts turned to Hogwarts, of that deserted battleground that he still couldn't help but call home.

The next second the talismans' magic seemed to shove him hard in the back. He stumbled and fumbled to keep a grip on his packages, but when he looked up he nearly dropped them again. Once again he found himself in a place he didn't expect, with no idea how he got there. He was back at Hogwarts, right outside the remains of what possibly had been the Astronomy Tower.

He glared suspiciously down at the talismans, which gave him a little jolt as if in mocking confirmation. He could swear they were almost sentient.

Well, two could play at that game.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on a mental picture of Hogwarts the first time he'd seen it from the boat on the lake as a timid first year: the way it sparkled and rose majestically above the lake, the pristine grounds and towers, and the sense of magic pervading it. The place that had become his home.

The air around him rippled and shifted, then the talismans burned cold in his hands as power throbbed like a bass drum underwater. The earth beneath him trembled violently as several loud cracks and crashes split the air, and wind tugged at him in upward cyclones.

Finally everything stilled with a suddenness that made his breath hitch in his chest. Warily he opened his eyes as the talismans shivered a bit sullenly. Imagination is a powerful tool. Gone were the ruins, the devastated forest, the ash-dusted corpses. Gone were the blood spatters and pools, the debris and wreckage.

Instead Harry stood on immaculate rolling lawns beside the towering edifice of Hogwarts castle, sparkling clean in the Halloween sun under a clear sky. The stones seemed almost newly cut, the windows glinted spotlessly, and the statues and gargoyles were especially pleased with their makeover. An autumn breeze blew from the forest, snapping the pennants at the Quidditch pitch and carrying scents of living growing trees and magical plants mixed with sounds of unseen animals.

Harry blinked, sure that he was hallucinating. None of this could possibly be real. It had been completely destroyed in front of his eyes. The knife buzzed in his hand irritably as if insulted.

"Yes, together they do obey your commands," came a voice from off to the side, and Harry spun to see Eva standing there, much as when he had first met her.

The phoenix Eredfire sat perched on her shoulder, silently regarding him with beady eyes. For an eternity Harry and Eva stared at each other, eyes searching but not finding. Eventually she sighed and shook her head, breaking eye contact. "I miss you, Harry."

Harry bristled at her words, but he couldn't explain why. The phoenix cocked his head, then let out a sad warbling note before unfurling his wings and flying away, feathers glinting in the bright sunlight. Eva watched him go, resignation etched in her expression. "Eredfire misses Harry too. It gets so lonely without one of your own to talk too, especially someone he's bonded to."

Harry shook his head with irritation. "What are you talking about, missing me? I'm right here."

Eva crossed her arms. "Are you really? Who is right here? Harry, or Wraith?" She took a step towards him, steel-eyed. "Or is it Death?"

Harry stepped back involuntarily, shaken at her words. She pressed her advantage, closing in on him with an inscrutable mix of emotions playing across her face. "Why?" she demanded, and Harry stopped, standing his ground.

"I had to," he bit out, already tired of defending his actions. "It was the only way I could finish this whole goddamn business."

"Oh really?" she retorted, fire in her eyes. "How do you know that? Did you ask anyone else? Someone who actually knew what was going on?"

"Like who?" he shot back with his jaw clenched. "No one actually knows the whole story."

She only arched an eyebrow at him as she rapidly switched tactics. "Do you know why our connection was failing?" she asked softly, and Harry frowned both at the change in subject and her tone.

"Honestly, I never thought that hard about it."

She pursed her lips in a thin line. "Typical. And it could have saved you so much trouble." He furrowed his brow in confusion, so she sighed and dropped her arms to her sides. "It happened because you were splitting, because the talismans was separating you and Wraith into different minds. Two split minds cannot keep a whole mental connection."

Harry strode towards her with fists clenches, his fury kindled hot. "Yet another thing you knew and failed to tell me," he fumed. "How can I trust you? How many lies and half-truths have you blinded me with this whole time, while concealing the truth?"

"How many were you ready for? How many would you believe?" she retaliated, her posture open but slightly defensive. "Maybe I was trying to protect you the best way I knew."

"From what?!" he glared at her venomously. "All your interference has done is mislead and confuse me. The only one I needed protection from was you!"

Eva glared back at him with disgust. "You really are like Death. Always pointing fingers at others, blaming them for your actions."

"Stop comparing me to her! We are nothing alike!"

Eva raised her eyebrows in scornful surprise. "Oh really? I recall you singing a different tune just a little while ago." She closed on him, an almost palpable energy surrounding her in her fury.

"You seduced her with words, claiming to be her equal, the only one to understand her. You proposed a marriage of equals, edifying each other through mutual support. And then you betrayed her," she fairly spat. "The hero is just a common Judas, turning once he had his thirty pieces of silver."

Harry turned his face away, jaw clenched. "I had no choice." He shot a hard look sideways at her. "Why are you so mad about his anyway? I always got the impression you don't care much for Death."

Her face instantly became guarded, a strange look in her eyes. "It's more complicated than you know," she murmured, "but suffice to say that I do indeed care about Death." She looked up into his eyes. "Almost as much as I care about you."

Harry resisted the urge to step back under her gaze. "What, what do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

Eva sighed heavily as her eyes rolled heavenwards. "Are you being dense on purpose?" This came out with a slight note of desperation. "Can't you see what's right in front of you?"

Now Harry backed up and Eva followed, approaching closer with each step even as he retreated. She backed him right up to the walls of Hogwarts, and he pressed his palms against the stones as if wishing to melt into them rather than face the intensity of the woman in front of him. She stopped directly in front of him, her body barely brushing his but it was enough.

Harry looked away, searching for an escape route, but Eva caught his chin and forced him to look at her, pinning him in place with a piercing hazel glare. "Can't you see?" she said quietly, fiercely. "I love you, Harry."

He froze, eyes wide at her words. "I'm not supposed to, but I do anyways. Seeing you like this hurts me more than I ever imagined it would."

"What?" he managed to get out.

Eva smiled sadly. "I love Harry, the young man I trained and grew to know, the human beneath the hero. Now you are closer than ever before, bound, yet it's not the same. It's not right."

He shook his head, dislodging her grip. "I don't understand," he pleaded softly.

Eva backed away from him, her shoulders slumping as she sighed. "I didn't think you would. Your actions have changed much, but not nearly as badly as the others think, young phoenix."

It was the wrong thing to say. From the cooling ashes his anger kindled again, and he spat, "Don't call me that!!"

His hand raised, but she caught it before he even realized consciously that he was about to strike her. Eyes blazing fire, Eva yanked him forward so that he stumbled into her and she grabbed his other hand. With a sharp whistle through her teeth, music started playing from somewhere inside the castle, and she took another step backwards.

Harry recognized her intentions immediately, and with a low growl pulled her to him, one hand clasped with hers and the other on her waist. Eyes met in familiar fierce challenge, then he pushed forward aggressively and she followed his movements, quickly finding a rhythm together to the music. Despite the fact that they hadn't danced like this together in a lifetime, they remembered every move perfectly, the haunting pulse of the tango structuring their argument.

During his training, arguments between them were to be expected, so they only fought when they were dancing or sparring, depending on how serious it was. The physical aspect drew off built up tension so they could focus mentally and emotionally on the conflict without erupting into violence. They only danced-fought when the disagreements were intense, when sparring would have turned into a full-out brawl.

But never before had it been like this. Gone were the traditional ballroom steps and casual conversations, the playful banter and teases that had always marked their dancing. The tension and sheer energy between them brought the tango back to its roots in the back alleys and brothels of Buenos Aires; a dance of power, physical sensuality, sheer machismo and furious protest.

Their bodies danced the battle, every movement and step a blow, while they glared at each other in a silent battle of wills. The very air crackled with barely contained power, a palpable storm building between them.

Finally Harry broke the silence, gritting out, "Why didn't you tell me about the talismans?"

"Because I didn't know you were supposed to know," Eva countered as one leg slid between his before she spun away. "The Guardians didn't tell me that you were involved in the Prophecy. All Death said was that you needed a trainer and none of the Shamak'la seemed suitable."

One hand came up to cup his cheek, eyes locked even as her body twisted with her steps. "We presumed it was for the coming war, since you had beaten off Voldemort and Death once, and would need to do so again. Your parents and others encouraged me to take up the task, so I did. The Guardians never bothered to tell me that you needed to be not only a warrior, but a savior of the universe."

He rolled his eyes as her sarcasm, dipping her backwards slowly as one leg curled around his hip for balance. "So once I had it, why didn't you warn me about its powers?"

Eva turned in his grasp, slid behind him and to his other side in one quick movement, trailing a hand over his bare shoulder blades. "You have to understand something about the talismans. Yes, in the end it did split you, but at first after you touched it, some of its powers were accessible to you. How else can you explain how you rescued Snape out of your dreams?"

Once again in his arms, she met his eyes defiantly. "I saw how strong Voldemort was getting, so I thought that if you had this extra source of power to draw on temporarily, this whole thing could end quickly and then we'd deal with the talisman."

"How convenient."

Her arms laced around his neck and she pressed closer to him. "It was a gamble, yes, and one that seems to have backfired. Our mental link failed as you split, and I didn't know what was going on until too late."

Eva cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing. "How did you know Death would give in to you? Nobody touches Death, especially not mortals."

Harry shrugged, hands on her hips guiding her though the dance, her nearness rather distracting from his anger. Which really was the point of it. "I didn't know," he admitted. "But that was the best thing I could come up with. Wraith wanted to fight her."

Eva chuckled lightly, the vibrations echoing from her chest to his where they pressed together. "Glad you talked him out of it, but it would have been interesting to watch."

She sobered, her gaze tracing his features as if searching for something lost. "Why?" she whispered. "Why did you have to do it this way? Why did you have to sacrifice Harry to become Death?"

He stared at her. "I am Harry. I may have taken Death's powers, but I'm still me." She shook her head, so he fired back, "Then who do you think I am?"

"I can't tell you who you are, only who you are not." She sighed. "The form is Harry," and she ran one hand down his bare chest as if to confirm that observation, "but inside is Death. You are starting to become her – your actions and thinking are similar. You see things you don't recognize but you know already. You feel like her, hard and cold and unforgiving. Even your hands are cold as ice."

She took his hand in hers, and it was only then that he noticed how blazing hot she seemed in comparison with his chill skin. He shivered, both from that realization and her words, at the truth she told. But then he noticed other things, other truths.

He looked at their fingers intertwined, at how perfectly she fit against him, of how natural it seemed to hold her close and move with her. Her eyes drew him, the rich hazel with flecks of green and gold surrounded by a dark ring, and he knew there was something there, something that connected them together so closely they should have been one person.

She was staring back at him, questioning, neither noticing that the music had stopped, or that they were standing motionless in the shadow of the castle, still in each others arms. Tension again thickened the air, but this storm did not promise violence as earlier. Harry's gaze dropped to her lips, and slowly he leaned down, hovering uncertainly for a second.

Then he kissed her.

For an eternal moment, she was still, not reacting. Then she relaxed with a sigh, pressed herself closer and kissed him back.

Softness, warmth, slight movement against his mouth, and it was perfect.

His hands wrapped around her, unwilling to let her go when she belonged here. Without prompting he gave himself completely over to the kiss and the wonderful girl in his arms. The floodgates opened, and just like the Death they were both completely open to each other.

The power surged between them through the simple contact, and for the first time ever he felt complete, at peace.

Right here, right now, the universe was perfect.

Then something changed.

From Eva came a dark spot, a swirling whirlpool of almost-nothingness in her consciousness, buried in the back of her mind. It was a wound never healed, a black hole where something had long ago been torn away. It tugged at him in recognition, drawing him in, and before he could draw back, he knew the truth.

Harry shuddered in her embrace, the borrowed power draining from him with a nauseating sucking feeling that left him shaken and dizzy. He clung to Eva to keep upright, and only then did their kiss break.

He stumbled back, gasping as he stared horrified at Eva, who was shaking badly.

She looked at him and gave him a feeble smile. "Judas," she whispered tremulously. "Betrayed by a kiss."

He shook his head, unable to believe what he knew was the truth. "How . . . why?" he stammered, not quite able to articulate the million questions he needed to ask. She simply shrugged, as if the answer should be obvious.

"What are you?" he blurted out.

One eyebrow arched in question. "What do you think I am?"

Harry closed his eyes and sat heavily on the grass, mind whirling with an unbearable sense of sadness. Eva wrapped her arms around herself as if warding off a chill, still trembling like a veil in the wind. "It was the talismans," she said quietly in explanation.

"Before the orb was created to counter its power, the dagger tore Death in two. One retained her physical form, but the other became her alter ego, the antithesis of what she was, the ying to the yang."

She looked at him sadly. "Just as Harry remained, but Wraith was created from your darker side, one that embraced means and thoughts that Harry never would have entertained." Harry refused to meet her eyes, so she turned her gaze away, looking out over the sunlit trees of the forest as she continued.

"Death was weakened but still able to perform her job. So what to do with the other? She was not a Guardian, but not anything else either. So they exiled her from their presence, unable to face the constant reminder of their failure, then set up boundaries for her to follow, a cage for this anomaly to prevent her from affecting their work. They named her Lysaeva, the outcast.

"She became a wandering exile, watching over the downtrodden and those in need, helping when possible such as the Guardians were forbidden to do. This was how she became a guardian of a different sort. One realm named her their guardian angel, granting her a new name, one of hope."

Harry met her eyes as he breathed, "Eva. The angel."

She nodded with a slightly ironic smile. "Funny how their guardian is the Angel of Death." He snorted, and she looked at him pointedly. "And this whole time you've been dancing with Death. Or at least her better half."

Harry pursed his lips, then asked softly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Death forbid me to tell anyone outside the Guardians. Death could not be seen as weak, especially with her former servant still on the loose." She sighed, then tentatively sat next to Harry, laying a hand on his arm.

Harry refused to look at her now, his heart aching. He swallowed hard, but the ache stubbornly remained, compounded by a profound loneliness. She had lied to him. She had betrayed him. Whatever he had done to Death was out of necessity, but she had willfully lied to him about herself. If he couldn't trust Eva, whom could he trust anymore?

He looked out over the grounds, hating how everything could seem so bright and new and full of hope when he himself seemed to be drowning in darkness. Death's power was gone, which was at once a relief and unbearable. It no longer tormented him, overloading him with unnatural strength, but at the same time it was the only thing letting him know he was still alive. Part of it also connected him with Eva, for they both held a part of Death inside that drew them together.

What was left for him now? The talismans were still there, lying on the grass just waiting for him. He knew that he'd have to get on with it soon, but right now he couldn't bear to go anywhere near them. What would he do afterwards? He had no life. Everything he knew, everything he was trained to do and excel at, was now useless. He felt old, and suddenly worthless.

His fists clenched, sorrow transmuting to anger. All this because of a stupid riddle that some stupid watchers couldn't figure out. They had their plots and their schemes and their manipulations, but in the end none of it worked because of a damn failure to communicate. He cursed them, for their shortsightedness, for their failures, and for destroying his life.

Wait . . .

A line of the prophecy niggled at his mind, and he frowned, thinking. The one line Destiny could never figure out . . .

Suddenly he snapped his head up, a wild look of comprehension in his eyes. "_'Joins with angel's light'_," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"What?" Eva startled out of her own thoughts.

"That line of the Prophecy, the one the Guardians never figured out," he exclaimed hastily. "_'The heir of Merlin joins with angel's light'_." He looked her straight in the eye. "Maybe everything didn't go wrong after all. Maybe Time was right. Maybe you weren't an accident. Maybe, despite Fate's interference, things turned out how they were supposed to."

Eva looked puzzled, then light dawned in her eyes. "You think . . .? Those idiots," she breathed as a broad smile broke out on her face. "The answer was right under their noses, and they nearly threw it out."

Harry scrambled to his feet and tugged Eva up after him, then ran over to the two innocent looking objects lying forgotten in the grass. The two knelt down by them and with trembling fingers unwrapped the talismans. The etched Eye on the knife glared daggers at them, but the orb pulsed almost cheerfully, clearly ready for whatever needed to be done.

Harry touched the pendant hanging over his breastbone. This time when he looked at the writing around the edges, he could understand it perfectly. The instructions were clear and remarkably simple, which he read aloud to Eva. They looked down at the talismans laying there, the cause of so much destruction and heartache.

Eva reached out and gripped Harry's hand. "Harry," she said seriously, "there was a reason why the Guardians left you to destroy these. They contain unimaginable power, which would have destroyed entire realms. When you do it, they won't simply go away. There's just too much magic involved."

He frowned. "What do you think will happen?"

She shook her head. "I don't really know. Whatever it is will be contained, but still . . ." She bit her lip, tracing a finger on his arm right over the Phoenix Lord tattoo. "There's a good chance that whatever happens, I will cease to exist. And possibly you too."

Harry drew in a sharp breath at the thought. An eternity with Death he could handle, but to never exist . . .

But there was no other way. "That's a risk we will have to take," he said calmly, then tried to smile. "As long as it takes Wraith with it, I'll be happy."

She attempted to smile back, but her eyes were too worried. Impulsively she leaned over and kissed him hard on the mouth. When she pulled away, they were both breathless and blinking sparkles of light out of their eyes.

Harry smiled, a small but genuine smile that drove the darkness out of his eyes. Then he cleared his throat and focused on the talismans again.

He held the orb still on the ground with one hand and plucked up the dagger with the other. Immediately he felt the power surge through him, but instead of overwhelming him he felt it drawn through him into the orb.

Harry took a deep breath, glanced up at Eva one last time, then plunged the dagger straight through the orb.

Instantly reality disappeared in a blinding white nothingness.

* * *

Anybody else ever kill off one of the voices in their head?

I have many. I don't miss them.


	38. Mockingbird's Revenge

"... Although they're born with a song of their own, an innate riff that happens to be one of the most versatile of all ornithological expressions, mockingbirds aren't content to merely play the hand that is dealt them. Like all artists, they are out to rearrange reality." - Tom Robbins

Chapter 38

For the first time, Chaos was completely speechless.

He stood with the other Guardians at the edge of their realm overlooking the tapestry that made up the universe, each realm a different colored strand that crissed and crossed into a complete and unique work of art. The tapestry built upon itself constantly, weaving and reweaving together to create new patterns out of the old.

But now that tapestry was unraveling, the cloth of endless strands disintegrating before their eyes. The individual strings pulled apart and shifted backwards. History unwrote, endings became beginnings and vanished as the whole spooled out back to the very beginning, where each thread started.

Chaos kept his eyes fixed to the incredible sight before him, barely aware of Death's low moan as her past caught up with her. The last few threads untwisted, and everything was back to the beginning. There was an eternal pause, and the Guardians collectively held their breath, anxious to see what would happen.

A soft breath, as Someone watching over it all sighed, then slowly, ever so slowly, the threads began to move again, a new pattern emerging as history was rewritten for the first time again. But this time was not like the last.

Destinies shifted, fates intertwined; the impossible occurred as the inevitable was avoided. A new tapestry emerged, not the same as the old but those lives involved in its weaving did not realize that there had been an old at all. For them, everything was new.

Time reached out and touched it, and what had once taken ages was now unfolding before their eyes. Chaos bit his lip as his eyes followed the threads, watching as they wove closer and closer to the dreaded spot, one that they had all looked upon for millennia as one would a blood stain on a pristine white carpet.

But the hated pattern did not emerge.

Instead of darkness, a design of light twisted into being, and possibilities shifted once again. One thing altered affected every single event thereafter. The phoenix rose from necessity once long ago, but never would again, the ashes now scattered by the breath of change.

The Guardians let out a collective sigh of relief, and Nature ran a hand over her face with fatigue. "Think we failed?"

Time nodded with a contemplative little smile. "Spectacularly so, I'd say."

Death crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled, "Well, I do not think it was a fair test."

Chaos grinned over at her. "I rather enjoyed it. I will miss Eva though."

Destiny shrugged helplessly, stepped forward and tossed her book over the edge. They all watched as it spun away and disappeared into the ether. She then picked up a new book and opened it to the first blank page. "Now we have to start all over again from scratch."

Love smiled. "Look on the bright side. At least we don't have to deal with that old prophecy again. It was getting rather tiresome."

Fate arched an eyebrow with a sardonic little smile. "Bet you He gives us a new one to puzzle over."

Chaos rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "I love puzzles." Something caught his eye in the tapestry below, and his eyes lit up. "Oh, look!!"

* * *

Lily Potter sat in a rocking chair in her living room in Godric's Hollow, staring into the fire contemplatively. One hand absently caressed the growing bulge of her stomach, and she smiled when she felt a little kick from inside.

"You're going to be strong, little one," she murmured. The baby must have heard her, for he erupted in a storm of kicking that made her stomach jump and ripple. She winced as one particularly forceful one hit her kidneys, then strong arms wrapped around her and came to rest over her own hands.

Lily smiled up at her husband, who had a look of wonder on his face as he felt his son kick. "He sure can't wait to get out of there, can he?" James said admiringly.

"I can't wait, either," Lily said dryly. "I'm tired of running to the loo every ten minutes, and getting cravings for anchovy and raspberry ice cream."

James laughed. "I know Fortescue is tired of that one as well. He hates anchovies, and when he had to mix that up for you the poor man turned a lovely shade of green." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she giggled. "Any day now honey, and we'll have a brand new mini-Marauder running around. Padfoot is so excited."

"Try ecstatic. The way he carries on about being named godfather, you'd think it was his own son," Lily countered with a wry smile.

James gave her a mock glare. "It had better not be. I'd hate to have to kill him." Lily laughed out loud, and he continued with a grin, "Besides, I wouldn't wish his genes on any poor kid. What if they got his nose, or worse, his hair?"

"Like you're one to talk," his wife retorted, reaching up to tousle his already permanently mussed hair, and instinctively he shied out of her reach. They shared a quiet laugh, then Lily laid her head back to rest on his chest with a contented sigh. "I wonder what he'll look like," she said dreamily.

James kissed her neck and murmured, "If he looks anything like his mother, he'll be the most beautiful baby this world has ever seen."

She let out a happy little giggle and rubbed her belly again. "Get ready little one. There are so many people wanting to meet you," she whispered, "and a whole world for you to shake up."

* * *

"Awww," Nature, Destiny and Love all sighed in unison, the latter shifting her appearance to match that of Lily Potter at the moment. Destiny had a smile on her face as she looked down at her book and started writing again. This time it was in a clear line with no interruptions, prophecies, deaths or dark lords.

Time looked over her shoulder with curiosity as she wrote, occasionally muttering suggestions as the future was planned. Chaos also leaned in, and he grinned widely in approval. "Oh, right here!!" he exclaimed, pointing his finger. "The Marauders meet the Weasley twins!! Perfect!!"

Nature laughed loudly at his enthusiasm, the clear sound of bells over water echoing over the tapestry. Love nodded with satisfaction, golden eyes gleaming like dawn sunlight. "Much better this time around. Don't you just love happy endings?"

Fate scowled, her arms crossed over her chest. "No."

She stretched out a hand over the tapestry, but Destiny shot her a warning glare. "Fate, don't you dare meddle with this."

Fate arched an eyebrow and smirked, then snapped her fingers. A single thread twitched, and the Guardians all scrambled to see.

* * *

"Push!"

Lily's face was red as her sweat-dampened hair as she strained and pushed again, a loud moan forcing its way through her clenched teeth. James stood by her side, biting his lip in an effort not to cry out as she crushed his hand with her own.

He looked towards the business end of the bed, and the Healer nodded. "All right, he's coming along. I can see the head. One more push, Lily."

James swept the damp strands from his wife's forehead and kissed it lightly. "Come on Lily. You're doing great. He's almost here."

Lily breathed out hard, panting after eight hours of labor, and shot him a green-eyed glare worthy of the Killing Curse. "This is all your fault," she gritted out, then winced. "I'm never going to let you touch me again."

The assistant Healer stifled a chuckle, and James turned wounded eyes to where she was standing at the Healer's side. "Raven, it's not funny! She means it!" He slid his other arm around Lily's shoulders and murmured to her, "What if I get Sirius to teach me his contraceptive charm? It's never failed for him."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Maybe."

Now the head Healer was also trying not to laugh, and cleared his throat." Discuss your sex lives, or lack thereof, later. First we have to get this little consequence out of the way." He looked up at Lily, mischief twinkling in his dark gray eyes. "Get ready to push."

The red head adjusted her grip on James' hand, which he was sure she did just to make sure she exerted pressure on every single bone there in punishment. He braced himself as she did, and at the count of three she pushed again, harder than ever.

Her moan turned into a scream, and the Healer exclaimed, "Got him!"

Lily instantly relaxed and fell back against her pillows, panting but smiling. James kissed her cheek. "Good job honey. I love you." They watched as the Healer fussed with something, and then his smile turned to a frown of concern, then serious urgency.

With a quick signal to his assistant, the Healer put the little body gently on the exam table nearby, picked up his wand and started muttering charms. Lily's green eyes widened. "What's wrong?" She tried to sit up again. "What's the matter? Why isn't he crying?"

The Healer and his assistant were both waving their wands over the baby, ignoring her as they focused. Lily grew frantic as she watched the yellow and blue charm lights engulfing her baby. "Riddle, what's wrong? Why isn't he crying? Tom, please! What is it? What's wrong with my son?"

Healer Riddle said something to Raven, who turned to Lily with a somber look on her face. "Lily, your baby's not breathing."

James felt his own breath hitch in his chest with panicked horror. "Wh-what?" he managed to gasp out. Lily clung to his shirt, not breathing herself.

Raven put her hand gently on Lily's shoulder. "It appears there was a knot in the umbilical cord, probably from all the shifting during labor. We don't know when it happened, so there's still a chance. Healer Riddle is trying to revive him."

Lily started to cry. "No!" she gasped out. "No, please no! He's my baby! He can't be – " The words cut off as she broke down completely, and James embraced her so her face was buried in his shoulder. His own tears fell into her hair as he watched the two Healers work frantically over the small still body of his son. Silently he prayed to whomever would listen that his son would live.

Long minutes passed. Finally Riddle's shoulders slumped and he lowered his wand, shaking his head slowly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tears in his dark gray eyes. "There's nothing more I can do." He glanced at the clock. "Time of death, 17:07, July 31st."

Lily stared at him for a moment with wide disbelieving eyes, then let out an agonized scream. "**_NO!!!_**"

James held her tightly, tears flowing as she fought desperately, beating his chest and shoulders while sobbing and screaming out denials. Eventually all her energy fled and she collapsed against him, her face a mask of utter loss and despair.

The two would-be parents watched with hollow eyes as the Healer wrapped the body in a blanket, then looked over at them. "Would you like to hold him?"

Lily nodded, and he brought the bundle over to lie in her arms. She looked down at the small body, the wild mop of black hair and the half-open eyes that showed a hint of green. James reached down with a trembling hand and smoothed down the baby-fine strands, barely able to see from the tears.

The assistant Raven bit her lip, then asked hesitantly, "What is his name? For the records."

Lily slowly leaned down and kissed the baby's smooth forehead. "Harry," she said brokenly. "My son, Harry James Potter."

* * *

With wide scandalized eyes the Guardians turned to an indifferent Fate, who, with her blue eyes and hair, looked as cool as a frozen hard boiled egg lost deep in the freezer two weeks after Easter.

"Why?" Nature choked out, raindrop tears in her eyes.

Fate shrugged. "After what happened last time, we don't want to tempt Death, now do we?" She glanced over at Destiny, who was looking murderous as she crossed out everything she had just written with furious strokes of her pen. Time shook his head slowly, liquid diamonds on his cheeks as he mourned a lost future.

Death glowered at Fate, silver eyes flashing as her hands clenched in fists, clearly restraining herself from punching Fate into the next universe. Briefly she wished that Eva was still around, because she would have done just that. Chaos appeared unpredictably angry, eyes narrowed and ready to unleash untold havoc on the temperamental Fate.

Love gave Fate a look of deepest loathing. "You are such a bitch."

* * *

A/N: Dear faithful addicts,

I am now cutting you off.

Did you really expect a happy ending?

Until my sanity returns,

I remain evil and insane.

psychochick


End file.
